Fate Keeps Us Apart
by WhiteFires
Summary: Book Two of "The Road to Camlann" - Trouble will soon arise in Camelot, so Morgana and Elaine return to the citadel, and despite their past Merlin and Morgana find themselves close friends. But fate seems set to tear them apart, especially when a certain druid turns up in the forest.
1. Prologue

_Hello people, I'm back. I was planning on just writing a sequel to The Start of an Apology, but then one day when I was walking home, I was cornered in a dark alley by a whole gang of plot bunnies and suddenly I found myself planning a whole series. So there you have it, I'm going to make this a series!_

_Please read The Start of an Apology before reading this._

_Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

The land was barren. It seemed that every living creature there was afraid of the dark. Even the moon was afraid; it did not make an appearance to light the stranger's path. Consequently it was pitch black, and the man making his way along the rough, beaten road could not see his hand in front of his face. The only lights were in the distance, the lights of civilisation.

The air was cold, the northern winds blowing harshly at the stranger, threatening to steal his cloak. He wrapped it tighter around his body and continued on his way.

The dry leaves of autumn skittered across his path, and the wind lifted them upwards to brush against the man's cheek. He waved them away irritably and quickened his pace; he couldn't lose any more time.

He was among the lights now; they were the flickering of candles from windows and fire pits burning in the street. He ignored everything around him, heading straight for the dark mass ahead of him. When he came closer he could see what it was, the palace.

The guards tried to stop him from entering, but he just waved a hand and they were flung backwards, their skulls cracking against the walls. He marched purposefully down the corridor, his sights fixed on the large oak doors before him. Music was coming from behind them, along with the sounds of raucous singing and laughter. It would seem that they were celebrating something. The stranger couldn't tell whether it was some kind of festival or just for the sake of it, the customs of these people were beyond him.

Two more guards were posted outside the doors and upon seeing the man they readied their weapons, but again with a casual flick of the wrist they were sent flying. The stranger moved past them, not even sparing a glance for the men he had just killed.

He directed his palm to the doors and with a bang they flew open. The laughter and music died away when the people inside saw the man in the doorway. He strode into the room, ignoring the stares from either side of him. He walked straight down the middle of the room, heading for the man sat at the dais, the king.

The king made no move to summon any guards, he seemed curious as to what the stranger wanted. The man reached him and paused, then bent down on one knee, bowing his head.

"My greetings, your highness," he said, in a clear voice.

"What is it you want boy?" the king asked.

"I seek an audience with your daughter," he said, raising his head to look the king in the eye.

The king roared with laughter, as did some of the people around the room.

"My daughter is no common whore, boy! You will get nothing from her!" he said loudly.

The stranger said nothing, waiting for the laughter to die away. When it did, he said, "That was not my intention, sire."

The king narrowed his eyes and asked, "Then what do you want with her?"

"I require her abilities," he replied.

The king narrowed his eyes even further.

"What abilities do you speak of?" he asked.

"You know the ones, my lord."

The king looked at him suspiciously, then said, "Tell us boy, why do you need her?"

"I have use of her talents, and I hope that one day they will help me bring our enemies to their knees."

The king sat up a little straighter at this.

"And what enemies do you speak of?" he asked.

The stranger leaned forwards slightly.

"You know the ones, my lord."

The king deliberated for a while, then said, "Very well, tell us what you plan to do with my daughter."

He gestured to a woman sitting to his left. She had long blond hair and blue eyes. Her features were gentle and kind. A very beautiful woman, but not the one he was searching for.

"Wrong daughter, my lord," he said.

The king frowned.

"I have but one daughter and this is she," he said.

The stranger smiled.

"I think not," he said.

His gaze was caught by a slight movement behind the king. It was a serving boy, tall with dark eyes. The stranger's smile widened and he said, "Ah! There you are princess! Would you be so kind as to grace us with your true form?"

The servant's eyes widened and whisperings broke out around the hall, people wondering it the man was quite sane. But then the whisperings turned to gasps and yells as the serving boy started to change.

He shrunk in height and his hair grew longer. His features became sharper, his skin turned milky white and his hair turned from a dark brown to a golden red. His eyes were still as dark as ever though. In less than ten seconds, a girl was standing before them, no more than eighteen. She was still wearing the servant's clothes, along with a curious expression on her face. She eyed the stranger with interest and finally said, "You are clever to have seen me for my true form. What is it you wish from me?"

"I require you to enter the kingdom of your enemies and steal the heart of a man there. This man is essential if the kingdom is to fall," the man said.

The princess's face lit up at the prospect of leaving her home.

"Father," she said eagerly. "I wish to go with this man."

The king looked at her with concern.

"Are you sure, daughter?" he asked.

"Quite. When can we leave?" she asked the stranger.

"As soon as you are ready," he replied. "I shall wait for you outside."

He turned to leave, but the king called him back.

"Wait," he said. "If you are to take my daughter, may I at least know who you are?"

The stranger turned back slowly.

"I come from Camelot," he said.

Ripples of unease spread throughout the hall.

"But I am no friend to them," he continued. "I am a druid. My home was stolen from me by the king, I wish him only death."

"And your name?" the king prompted.

The stranger's eyes met his.

"Mordred."

* * *

_So who knows who the latest mystery woman is? Don't worry, I won't be dragging the mystery out for so long in this one. Like Elaine, the princess is a character from the legend that never appeared in the show. It shouldn't be too hard to guess who she is if you know the legends well._

_Updates will be slow for a while because I'm lacking a little on inspiration and I have to write an alternative ending to Of Mice and Men by Thursday. Sorry about that, but I will preserve!_


	2. Chapter 1

_The events in this story take place two and a half years after The Start of an Apology, except for the prologue, which took place roughly six months before this chapter does._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Elaine woke with a start. She had been dreaming, one of her visions. Sitting up in bed, she pressed her fingers to her temples.

No. It was too soon. They were all too young, they deserved longer than this. She would gladly have given her own life, but the others? No, she would never do that to them. They still had so much to do, it couldn't happen yet.

She glanced at her sister, who was still sleeping across the room, looking quite peaceful and completely unaware of what was coming. Morgana no longer had visions; she would not be able to tell what horrors lay in wait for them. Only Elaine had that gift now. _Gift._ It was hardly that, but it had been very useful in the past. She had used it to change the future. And if she had done it before, she could do it again.

She grimaced. She hadn't wanted it to come to this, not so early at least, but there was no other way. They would have to return to Camelot.

* * *

The cries were growing more frequent now. Merlin tried to block them out, but it wasn't possible. His heart wrenched every time another agonised yell came from behind the closed door. He wished he could do something, but he knew no magic that could help now.

He sat slumped on the floor, in exactly the same position he had been in for the past eight hours. It was the small hours of the morning, although dawn showed no signs of appearing. Arthur was pacing before him, growing paler with every sound they heard from behind the door.

He had given up long ago trying to make him get some sleep, it made no difference whatever he said. Merlin had tried reasoning that making himself sleep-deprived would do nothing to help Gwen, but Arthur had just glared at him. He hadn't said a word since then.

He was worried for his friend, the last time this had happened in the royal household there had been a death. This same thought seemed to be possessing his master. Worry pervaded Arthur's face, leaving no room for any other emotions.

Another scream came from behind the door, and both men jerked their heads towards the noise. That one had sounded worse than the last few.

Arthur stopped his pacing and fully turned towards the door separating him from his wife. Merlin switched his gaze between his friend and the door, wondering what was happening behind it.

They heard nothing for a few moments, Gwen had fallen silent. Both men stared at the door, willing her to be alright. There were a few murmured words, then footsteps. Merlin scrambled to his feet and backed away from the door, moving to stand at Arthur's side. The door opened and Gaius emerged from it. His face was solemn.

They waited, fearing the well being of Gwen.

"She is fine, sire. Weak, but she will be alright," Gaius said.

Both Arthur and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

"And what about –" Arthur began, his face falling again.

"It's a boy," the physician cut across him, smiling.

Arthur's face lit up and almost ran past him into the chambers. Merlin followed, a large grin stealing his features.

Gwen was sitting up in bed, her skin pale, looking very tired. In her arms was a baby, clearly born just seconds earlier. A midwife and two servant girls were huddled around the bed, but they moved away when they saw the king enter. Arthur hurried to his wife's side and sat carefully on the bed next to her. He looked down at his son, all traces of fear melting away. He looked so happy.

Merlin watched from a safe distance. He smiled at the small family before him and made to follow the women out of the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" came Arthur's voice from behind him.

Merlin turned around to see both the king and queen staring expectantly at him. The baby was now in Arthur's arms, making little snuffling noises.

He moved over hesitantly towards them, and peered down at his friend's first-born. He had fair skin, like his father and dark hair, like his mother.

Arthur held him out for Merlin to take him. He hesitated for a few moments, before extending his arms gingerly. He laid his son in his servant's arms and Merlin carefully cradled the boy, making sure he supported his head properly. He was slightly worried he would drop the baby, so he held him close to his chest, all the while examining his features.

It struck him just how small this boy was. Of course going into labour a month early wouldn't help, but he was just so tiny. This worried him. Would he be alright?

The boy shifted ever so slightly and opened his eyes. They were a startling blue, exactly the same shade as his father's.

"He has your eyes," he said to Arthur.

"All babies have blue eyes when they are born," Gwen replied. "They could change."

The door suddenly burst open, and Elyan charged in.

"I heard –" he started to say, but stopped when he caught sight of the baby in Merlin's arms.

He hurried over and Merlin gratefully transferred Elyan's nephew onto him. He hadn't been necessarily uncomfortable with holding his friend's son; he'd just been slightly worried of dropping him.

Elyan took his nephew and grinned down at him.

"What will you name him?" he asked.

Gwen and Arthur looked at each other.

"We've been thinking … and we like the name Gwydre," Gwen said.

"Gwydre," Elyan said, smiling uncontrollably at his nephew.

Merlin shared his smile, as did both the king and queen. The knight brought the small child back over to his parents and Merlin silently slipped out of the room. He didn't want to intrude on a private family moment.

* * *

Morgana was waiting. She had been waiting for so long. But finally, _finally_ she would return. She would return to Camelot.

She had been having dreams again, dreams not even Elaine's reassurances could stop, and every night she would see the people she used to call her friends and feel the impatience of wanting to see them again. She especially wanted to see Merlin. He was her destiny … and he had been her doom. The old Morgana was dead. She wasn't afraid anymore.

And now standing in the woods, Elaine at her side, the sun not yet over the horizon, she could see Camelot. They were returning. She would see her friends again and she would be able to apologise properly.

The two figures were unidentifiable from a distance; they were draped in long cloaks, similar to the ones Morgana used to wear in Camelot. The cloaks were flapping slightly in the breeze, wrapping themselves around the women's ankles.

Elaine raised the hood of her cloak to hide her face. They couldn't be recognised until they were inside Camelot. Morgana did the same, and they began to make their way to the citadel.

"Is it wise to just go in through the front gates?" she asked.

"No one will recognise us," Elaine replied.

It was true; very few of the townspeople would recognise either of them. They had been in hiding for two and a half years and Morgana's appearance had changed greatly. She kept herself tidy and respectful looking, with no make-up. All the hate and loathing had melted away, being replaced with a more humble expression. There was no sign of the person she had been two years ago.

Hardly anyone knew Elaine, and it was unlikely that anyone would recognise her from Morgana's execution. The only real danger they were in was if one of the knights or Arthur saw them before they made it to the court room. Morgana suspected that she could win Gwen over if she saw them and they both knew that Emrys would be of no danger to them.

Morgana was eager to see all her old friends again, but she was slightly hesitant, especially as the last time she had seen her half-brother he had ordered her execution. It was just lucky that Elaine had got there first.

She still laughed about that, and could still hardly believe that she had actually dressed up as the executioner. It wasn't what she would have done, but she had to admit, it had worked. Thinking about it these days, she found Arthur's expression when she had pulled off the mask hilarious.

They reached the gates of Camelot and passed the guards, they didn't seem to be interested in them. Perhaps they just thought that two women travelling alone couldn't possibly be a threat to the kingdom.

Morgana made a mental note to lecture Arthur about the castles security later on.

They made their way through the lower town, receiving only a few suspicious looks for their cloaked appearances. Once they had reached the courtyard, they walked up to a guard and Elaine said, "We beg an audience of the king."

Morgana kept quiet, fearing her voice may give her away. The guard grunted and said, "Wait here."

The hurried off inside and Elaine turned around to give her a reassuring smile.

A few minutes later, the guard came back and said, "This way."

* * *

It had been two days since Gwydre had been born. Gwen had stayed in bed the whole time, recovering. Gwydre had been kept in the room with her at all times; she had refused to let anyone take him out of her sight, not even Arthur.

The king had announced his son's birth to the people just a couple of hours after he had taken his first breath. They had rejoiced, and there had been a celebration in honour of their first child.

And now, Arthur stood next to Gwen's bed, watching her cradle their son. The Knights of the Round Table surrounded them and Merlin looked on from the corner.

"Here," she said, holding out Gwydre to Percival.

He took him carefully, and cradled him in his arms. He was surprisingly gentle for one so large. After a few moments he held him out to Leon, who was next to him. The knights slowly passed the young prince around the group, until he reached Elyan.

"Who shall be compater?" he asked.*

Arthur and Gwen looked at each other. They had discussed this, and knew there was only one man they would name compater to their son.

"Merlin," Gwen said.

The servant in the corner snapped his head up. He stared at the group looking at him. It was obvious he hadn't expected that in the least. Arthur felt compelled to laugh at his manservant's expression, but thought it rather inappropriate for the situation. Merlin seemed to be stuck to the spot, so he said, "Come here you."

He stumbled over and Elyan lifted Gwydre into the new compater's arms. Merlin smiled down at Gwydre, then looked up at the others.

"Why me?" he asked.

Arthur rolled his eyes. Gwen laughed and said, "Who else?"

She didn't say anymore, she didn't have to. They all knew what Merlin had done for them over the years. He had given them hope, ridden into battle beside his master with no chainmail on, his loyalty was unquestionable.

To them it seemed fitting that he would be named compater to the king's son.

Merlin realised all that they were saying with their silence and broke into a wide smile. He looked down at the boy in his arms and said, "Hello Gwydre."

The child shifted in his sleep slightly and Merlin handed him back over to Gwen. Arthur sat down next to her on the bed and stroked his son's forehead.

He was about to say something else when a guard ran in through the door. He looked up angrily, annoyed that someone was disturbing the moment.

"I am sorry to intrude my lord, but someone has requested your presence," the man said.

Arthur frowned.

"And why does it require my immediate presence?" he asked.

The guard hesitated.

"It's … it's Morgana Pendragon, sire."

* * *

_And I'm back with the cliffhangers! In the next chapter I'll explore how the events of The Start of an Apology affected everyone, I'm not sure when I'll get that chapter up though._

_*Compater means godfather. It was a term first used at the end of the 6__th__ century and the one I think they would have used in their time. It is suggested that they were seen as spiritual co-parents._

_Gwydre was one of the names of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere's son's. There were other names like Loholt and Borre, but I liked this one best._


	3. Chapter 2

_So I said that I would be updating slowly, however I've already got two chapters and a prologue up in just 48 hours. Silly me._

* * *

Merlin's heart was stuck somewhere in his throat. His palms were sweating and his mouth dry. He was finally going to see Morgana again.

He had been waiting for over two years, almost given up hope that she would come back. Each passing day his anticipation had lessened, his faith in Elaine's promise that they would return had almost disappeared. She had said they would come back, but at this point he hardly believed it.

So to be told that she was there in Camelot had put him in a temporal state of shock. He was almost bouncing as they strode along, but he tried not to make that fact known to the others. They were still convinced that she was an evil witch.

He had long since given up trying to tell Arthur that she had redeemed herself, he refused to see otherwise, believing that Merlin had been an idiot to buy into her "please forgive me" thing.

They hadn't spoken of her since she left, mentioning her name as little as possible. Arthur was quite content not to hear her name spoken and pretended as though she didn't exist, but Merlin still found it painful when he heard her spoken of in belligerent tones.

He was worried about how people would treat her. Once she saw Arthur she would ask his forgiveness he was sure. Why else come back? It was just a matter of whether Arthur would grant her this wish.

Arthur, Merlin and the knights rounded the corner and saw the council chambers before them. Arthur strode in first and made his way to his throne. He sat down and waited. The knights positioned themselves around the room in their respective places and Merlin stood at the back with the servants.

"Bring them in," Arthur said.

After a few moments, some guards walked in, ushering two women ahead of them. The women were directed to stand in the middle of the room, before the king.

They both had long cloaks on with the hoods pulled up, so Merlin couldn't see their faces. One of the guards moved forwards and yanked the hood of the woman on the right down. It was Morgana.

She had changed greatly. She no longer wore make-up and her hair looked like had actually been brushed. She looked nervous, not at all like the Morgana they used to know, never the less gasps erupted from around the chamber as people recognised her. They started to hiss feverishly at each other, startled to find the witch in their presence. Merlin riled and despite himself wanted to shout at them.

The other woman lowered her own hood to reveal Elaine – the whisperings increased in volume as they recognised the woman who had come to Morgana's aid – and she gave her head a slight bow towards the king.

Arthur called for silence and the whispers died away. He looked at his sister with a guarded expression on his face.

"Our greetings, your highness," Elaine started. "We have travelled far to come here."

Morgana was looking around the room, as though for an escape.

"Why did you come here?" he asked. "You are no friend to Camelot."

His tone was cold and commanding, he made it clear that he had not forgiven their crimes.

Morgana looked directly at him.

"We have come here to – to –" Elaine gave her a little nudge. "To apologise, brother."

Arthur was startled by this, he looked taken aback, and Merlin was suddenly afraid that he might call for the guards to arrest them.

"We beg a second chance," Elaine said. "We are sorry for our crimes and wish for forgiveness."

They waited. Arthur stared at them.

"How do I know this isn't a trick?" he asked.

"You don't," she replied. "We await your judgement."

She bowed her head meekly and waited. Morgana did the same. Arthur looked confused. He was stumped as to why they would ask for forgiveness except to wreak havoc from the inside of Camelot. The various people around the room seemed to be thinking the same thing. Courtiers and servants alike were whispering behind their hands to each other, and the knights were all looking stony eyed at the two sorceresses.

"Who are you?" Arthur asked Elaine.

She looked up.

"My name is Elaine. I was Morgause's twin."

More shocked whisperings at this new revelation. Arthur narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"But believe me," she continued. "I feel no affection for her."

Her eyes darkened.

"Not any more."

There was silence after this.

Arthur seemed to be deliberating. He could either let Morgana and Elaine stay in Camelot and potentially expose his people to a great threat, or he could arrest them and potentially execute two good women.

Merlin wished that Gwen were well enough to be there, she could talk some sense into Arthur. She would see that Morgana had changed and would persuade him to see the good in her.

Eventually he made up his mind. He opened his mouth to speak and Merlin braced himself for the words.

"You may stay in Camelot. However, you will be kept under a close watch until you prove yourselves to be completely sorry for your crimes. You will each be guarded by two guards at a time."

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. Elaine bowed her head graciously. Morgana raised her gaze to meet her brother's and a wide smile broke out on her face.

"Thank you Arthur," she said.

Arthur looked taken aback by the warmth and gratefulness in her voice, as did most of the other people in the room.

They were muttering about his decision and wondering why he wouldn't just throw the two in the dungeons. Merlin didn't care. Morgana was back, and Arthur was giving her a second chance. Everything would be alright.

"You will be given rooms in the palace," he continued. "Morgana, you can keep your old chambers and we will find a suitable room for Elaine."

More mutterings. People weren't even bothering to keep their voices down anymore. Merlin resisted the urge to hit the man next to him who was talking about having Morgana hung-drawn-and-quartered.

Morgana and Elaine turned to face the doors, ready to leave. The guards escorted them out and they ignored all the whispering around them.

As Morgana was almost at the door, she caught sight of Merlin. She beamed at him and he returned her smile. They couldn't say anything at the present moment, there were too many people around, but they could talk later. Merlin found himself anticipating the moment with glee.

* * *

Arthur marched back to Gwen's chambers, the knights hot on his heels. Goodness knows where Merlin had got to.

He was confused. Why would Morgana want to return to Camelot? She didn't really expect people to accept her after all she had done did she? No one in their right minds would. And even if she was planning on taking the kingdom down from the inside she would never succeed, not with everyone keeping such a close eye on her. It was an impossible task. So what did she stand to gain?

He strode into the chambers lost in thought and saw Gwen sitting up in bed, holding a sleeping Gwydre in her arms. She looked worried and tense. Immediately, Arthur relaxed his posture so she wouldn't suspect anything too bad.

"What happened? Is Morgana really back?" she asked.

Arthur nodded stiffly.

"She asked for forgiveness," he said.

Gwen looked taken aback.

"What? Why?" she questioned.

He sighed and sat down on the bed next to her.

"I don't know."

"What did you do?"

"I gave them a second chance. They're to stay in Camelot, but under heavy guard night and day," he reached out a hand and stroked Gwydre's forehead.

"Do you really think she's sorry?" she asked, her face filling with hope.

"Not likely," said Gwaine.

Arthur turned to look at him and Gwen looked slightly crestfallen.

"What I mean is … look at all that she's done. Do you really think that she regrets it? She was so sure of herself last time we saw her. She done so many awful things, how can she just have redeemed herself like that? I'd say that it wouldn't be possible for someone so evil," he said it in a rush, looking around for support.

The other knights nodded in agreement.

"Yes, I know, but what if she has changed?" he said. "I would be murdering an innocent. Well, not an innocent, but a potentially good person. I can't do that."

"I don't think she can become a good person. Remember all that she's done to us," he held up his finger, the small white scar evident on his skin. "Remember what she did to Merlin."

They did remember, all too clearly. Arthur still shuddered every time he caught a glimpse of his manservant's bare arms, the skin crisscrossed with scars. He felt sick at the thought that Morgana had been draining him of his soul.

They had tried on many occasions to destroy the Blade that she had used on him, but to no avail. They just could not do it. So instead it had been locked away in the vaults, safe from prying eyes … or so at least they hoped.

"I know what she did to him," he replied angrily. "But I'm giving her a second chance; if she betrays us again then I'll show her no mercy."

The knights looked at his stony eyes and knew he was not lying. If Morgana so much as hinted that she was working against them, Arthur would kill her without any remorse. He had stopped long ago thinking of her as his sister.

* * *

Camille was restless. She wanted to see the world. She wanted to go to Camelot. She wanted to use her talents for more than just simple tricks. She wanted to be more than just a silly Saxon princess. She wanted to bring about the downfall of their enemies. She wanted to cause pain.

But most of all, she wanted Mordred to stop being so cautious. He had promised her the chance to use her skills, but so far there had been nothing. It had been six months, six long and boring months since he had taken her from her father's court and she was getting tired of waiting. She wanted to be out there _doing_ something.

She had never liked sitting still and Mordred would not even let her go outside; he said she had to keep a low profile. She didn't see why. She could keep the lowest profile imaginable. Her shape-shifting abilities were far more powerful than he thought they were, but she wasn't going to let that on. She never trusted anyone, not even her closest family.

She had no love for anyone either, no sense of duty or loyalty. She was as cold as ice and only wished for power and knowledge.

However, to get this power and knowledge she needed Mordred. Besides her shape-shifting (which she had been born with) and another small talent she possessed, she had no magic. He had promised to teach her some basic spells, but he had also promised that he would find her an even greater teacher. One who could teach her much more than he could. She was eagerly awaiting the day when she would meet this person.

Camille twirled a lock of her hair around her finger and thought about the task ahead of her. Mordred had vaguely informed her of the details; go to Camelot, steal their enemy's heart, do not raise suspicion, bring him back here. It sounded simple enough, but she knew that it was an enormous assignment and couldn't be taken lightly. Not raising any suspicion would be hard, but she would prevail. She knew she would. She'd had plenty of practice making men fall for her; she found it funny to watch them squabble over her affections, not that she ever gave them any.

The man she was to seduce sounded interesting. She'd heard of him, of course she had, but Mordred's description of him had given her so much more insight as to what kind of person he was. Brave, loyal, yet there was something in the druid's voice as he spoke about him that made her question him more. Consequently, she discovered that this man had attacked the druid camp he had been staying in, all for the sake of some crystal. It seemed that he did not mind the killing of children. She was looking forward to meeting him.

* * *

_I'm bringing back the creepy!_

_And so the latest mystery woman is Camille. (I promise not to add any more of these to the story.) Like Elaine, she is in the legends; some stories refer to her as Morgana's worst and most terrible creation and others say she is a Saxon princess. I've gone with the latter obviously. However, I am giving her purpose a little twist. Watch this space._


	4. Chapter 3

_Sorry for the wait for this chapter, life caught up with me … along with three different groups of distant relatives and my GCSE results coming out. (Frankly, the latter was terrifying!) I'm not sure if there will be an update tomorrow and the day after that I'm going to Scotland for a week. I know, I know, I'm terrible! Just got back from Cornwall and now I'm leaving to babysit my second cousins! Don't worry, I'll be back on the 1__st__ of September and then I'll have a week before school starts._

* * *

Morgana looked around the room apprehensively. It was her old chambers, exactly as she remembered. The bed was still the same, the curtains, the furniture. In fact it looked like nothing had been moved, or even touched. There was a layer of dust on the floor and cobwebs hung from the corners of the ceiling. It seemed that this room had been just a bad memory to the people of Camelot.

She had been left alone to "get comfortable". Elaine had been taken away to her own chambers and Morgana hoped they weren't too far away from her own. The guards had stopped outside the door, giving her some privacy. She doubted if she would be allowed to leave the room.

_Condemned to solitary confinement_, she thought bitterly. Maybe it would be better if they hadn't walked in through the front gates. But Elaine had insisted, and she claimed she knew what was best for them. Morgana couldn't argue with her, after all she didn't have visions of the future anymore, only –

She shivered and moved the thoughts to the back of her mind. She couldn't argue because her sister was the only one of them who could tell what would happen in the future. She was the only one to hold that information.

She moved towards the window and looked out. There was the courtyard below her and the people going about their business. A small group of knights were saddling their horses on the cobbles, preparing to go for a patrol. Beyond the courtyard she could see the lower town. It was market day, and the streets were alive with activity and colour. She stood there for a while, breathing in the scent of Camelot and listening to the sounds of the people. She hadn't realised just how much she had missed it.

There were a few slight taps at the door and she whirled around. Seeing the door still closed, she waited, and after a few moments someone knocked again.

She wasn't sure if she had the authority to tell them to enter, so she crossed the room saying, "Who's there?"

The door swung open to reveal a familiar, lanky figure. Merlin stood in the doorway sheepishly, and Morgana could see behind him the two guards slumped at their posts, deep in sleep.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed, taking a few steps forwards. She looked behind him at the two guards disapprovingly.

"They're going to think it was me who –"

He cut her off, saying, "They'll wake up in a few minutes with absolutely no recollection as to what just happened. It'll be fine."

She smiled gratefully at him and moved aside to let him in. He closed the door behind him and stood with his back to it, a little nervously she thought.

"It's good to have you back," he said.

"It's good to be back," she replied. "Despite my brother's attitude to it. He still feels the need to set two guards on me at a time."

"He'll come round, once he sees that you really have changed," he said.

"That will be hard. I wouldn't expect anyone to forgive me, not after all that I've –"

She gave a slight twitch and changed the subject.

"Tell me what's been happening here," she said eagerly, her face lighting up.

"Well, Arthur and Gwen have had a child," he began slowly, disconcerted by the sudden conversation change.

A large smile grew on her face.

"They have a child?!" she exclaimed.

Merlin nodded and he too smiled.

"Yes, his name's Gwydre and he was born just two days ago," he said.

"But this means I'm an aunt!" she exclaimed, laughing at the thought.

"And I'm his compater," he added.

Morgana's eyes grew round.

"Arthur named you compater?" she asked.

He nodded.

"But that's wonderful!" she said.

She took a few steps forwards, intending on congratulating him further, when she caught sight of the scar on his right cheek. She stopped dead as she realised where it must have come from.

He looked at her curiously, wondering what could have made her look so horror struck.

She took another step towards him and took hold of his arm. He realised what was wrong with her and immediately stiffened, making as though to pull away from her. She held on to his wrist firmly, and pulled his sleeve up.

She saw the scars and froze. Her whole body tensed up and she couldn't move, not even to draw breath. She could only stare at the skin which she had blemished with that Blade of hers. Her eyes skimmed over Merlin's arm, taking in all the damage she had done. It was even worse than she had remembered.

She only took breath again when he yanked his arm out of her grasp and pulled his sleeve down.

"Merlin," she said, barely audible.

She backed away from him, horrified at what she had done.

"Merlin, I'm so sorry."

"Don't," he said. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

"There's everything to be sorry for. All that I've done to you …"

She dug her nails into her forearm, fighting back tears.

"I _tortured_ you. I almost took away your soul."

"No, Morgana. It wasn't you that did it," he moved forwards and grasped her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "It was another Morgana, and you're not that person anymore."

"I'm still me, it was my fault."

"Morgana …"

He lowered his voice.

"You regret it now, that's all that matters. I forgive you."

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, "I don't deserve your forgiveness."

"Yes, you do."

He took her arm in his hand and lifted her nails away from the other arm, revealing deep crescent shaped marks in her skin.

"I've wronged you as well remember?"

She did remember. How could she forget the day he had poisoned her? But now she knew why he did it and she completely understood. If she had been more aware of what was happening back then she probably would have asked him to do it.

"You had a good reason for doing it though, I was acting purely on my hatred," she said.

"That's not all. I've made attempts on your life more than once," he retaliated.

"Again, for a good reason. I was _evil_ Merlin. Don't say that I wasn't. If Elaine hadn't have found me, I could have destroyed the whole kingdom –"

She was stunned into silence as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She stood stiffly, surprised by his action, then gave into his hug. For the first time in years she felt safe.

"You need not feel guilty for any wrongs you have done me," he murmured into her ear.

He pulled back and put his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arms length.

She nodded and said, "Thank you Merlin," although she did not mean it.

It was her fault, and no ones but hers. She ought to die for her crimes, yet life wouldn't let her.

One of the guards outside groaned in their sleep. Merlin turned to check on him and saw with dismay that they were beginning to wake up.

"I'd better go," he said, moving towards the door.

Morgana didn't want him to go. She had felt safe with him. She didn't know why, maybe because he had magic like her. Elaine had magic, but it wasn't the same. She reminded her of Morgause too much to be completely comfortable around her.

She reached out a hand towards him, but he had already left the room. He turned back to her and said, "I'll see you soon."

She nodded and smiled briefly, but the moment his back was turned her face fell.

"Goodbye," she said.

She watched him walk away down the corridor, then closed the door as one of the guards gave another groan in his sleep.

She hated being alone. It gave her too much time to think. For the past two years she had stayed close to Elaine the whole time, using her as a distraction to her thoughts. But being alone gave her no such distractions, and nothing to keep that which haunted her at bay. Sometimes at night, if she had bad dreams, she would wake Elaine up just to have some company. She had felt childish doing this, although her sister had said she didn't mind.

She felt silly for wanting Merlin to stay, however the room just felt so empty. She was completely alone, and there was no Elaine to tell her things would be alright. Not that she had ever believed those words.

As she looked around the dark chambers she could feel the memories rising to the surface of her mind, she desperately pushed them down and clamped her hands over her ears, trying to block out the screams. She couldn't of course, they were inside her head.

She ran to the window and leaned right out, breathing in the fresh air and opening her ears to the sounds of the town.

Not here, not now. It would not happen _here_, and it would not happen _now_.

* * *

Elaine paced her room feverishly. They had given her rather small chambers; they clearly weren't worried about giving her much luxury. The room was sparsely furnished, only the necessities and a small, cracked mirror. The curtains were threadbare and moth eaten, and the windows faced north, so only a little light entered the room at midday.

She wanted to go and see Morgana; they needed to talk about what came next. She didn't know where her sister's chambers were, but she didn't think she would have too much trouble finding them. The only thing was she had been forbidden to leave the room. She could easily escape if she wanted to, however that wouldn't set a good impression on everyone. They needed to be trusted and respected if they were to be of any help to the kingdom, and they wouldn't get that by acting like criminals.

She thought back to the vision she had had recently. The one that had made her decide it was time to return to Camelot. She had known it was coming, yet she had never expected it to happen so soon. She had thought everyone would have a few more years before it began, but it seemed not.

All she had to do now was wait for the signs. She knew what the first one was, and she knew it would come fairly soon. An enemy would infiltrate the land and bring pain to those at the heart of Camelot. When that happened she would have to do all she could to make sure they couldn't bring harm to anyone, especially Arthur. He was the one they were targeting after all.

After that she would just have to try to gain the trust of the people of Camelot, including their king. She was the only one who knew of what was to come, and the kingdom had to be ready. A war was coming, the biggest war ever to be remembered, and no one but she knew about it. It was at times like this that Elaine felt truly alone in the world.

* * *

_Did I mention how much I like reviews?_


	5. Chapter 4

_Sorry about the wait for this chapter. I hope the updates will come quicker this week, I'll certainly try my best seeing as I won't have much time after then. The good news about going to Scotland for a week is that I've come up with a new idea for this story! (If you haven't worked it out yet, I write by getting a rough idea of where the story will go and then make up the smaller details as I go along.) It will become evident in later chapters._

_Please leave a review!_

* * *

The guards of Camelot didn't have the most exciting of days – they mostly consisted of standing outside doors and looking out for suspicious characters – so it wasn't surprising that their minds wandered while standing on duty.

But it was surprising to see two guards both drooping their heads as though they were about to fall asleep. Their eyelids closed and both men slowly slid down the wall, slumping against each other. Within seconds they were fast asleep.

Merlin slipped out from behind the pillar he was hiding behind and moved towards them. He bent over the men, checking to see if they were properly unconscious, before stepping over them and knocking quietly on the door. He waited about ten seconds, then it opened a crack.

Elaine looked into the corridor and her face brightened when she saw Merlin.

"Merlin," she said, and stood aside to let him in.

She didn't say a word about the guards slumped on the floor.

Merlin entered the room and wrinkled his nose as he saw the state of it.

"What's that smell?" he said.

"I don't know, and I'm not sure I want to know," she joked. "Um, no chance you could give us some more light?"

He turned to look at her.

"Can't you do it?" he asked.

She gave a short laugh and said, "Merlin, apart from my visions and the talent I seem to have for hiding myself, I have next to no magic. I am completely useless!"

"You managed that transporting spell quite well," he said.

"Yes, but those always take it out of me. I prefer to stick to more simple things. Nimueh always despaired at me; she said I wasn't fit to be a high priestess."

The name made Merlin start. He had forgotten that she had grown up with Nimueh for company. She must have been her teacher, the only parental figure she knew.

"Nimueh …" he said quietly.

"I never liked her that much, she was a little too cold and detached for me," Elaine said. "She's our mentor. Well … _was_ our mentor, since you killed her."

That too made him start. He didn't think anyone apart from Gaius knew about that.

"How do you know about that?" he asked quickly.

"I watched you do it," she replied.

He shuddered inwardly at this. He had thought they were alone, and hated the idea that someone had been watching his actions.

But then another thought came into his mind, one that made him worry slightly. Deciding to test his theory, he said, "And … you didn't stop me."

"She was becoming too ruthless. Someone needed to stop her," she explained.

"So you let me do it," he said, coolly.

"I'm sorry Merlin, but I was bound by our sisterhood. I could not harm her," she widened her eyes, willing him to see it from her point of view.

"You needed someone else to do it for you."

"I saw what she did to your mother! It couldn't continue!" she exclaimed.

He frowned.

"But she said she didn't choose who would die."

"She lied. If the Old Religion could have chosen anyone then why was it your mother? Out of the many thousands of people in these lands, it was her. The one person you cared for most. Nimueh did that on purpose. She chose the one who would cause you the most pain."

He felt a bubble of anger burst inside his chest. Someone had wanted to intentionally harm his mother. For the first time in his life he felt glad he had killed Nimueh.

"The Old Religion doesn't care who lives and who dies," Elaine said. "But Nimueh did."

They were silent for a few moments, Merlin contemplating her words, Elaine patiently waiting for him to finish.

Eventually he remembered why he had gone there in the first place and shook himself out of his pondering.

"When you last came to Camelot you told me something about a saviour of the kingdom. What did you mean?" he asked.

"It's a prophecy," she replied.

"About who?" he asked.

"I can't tell you."

"That's helpful."

"I'm sorry that I can't give you any more information, but I thought it imperative that you should be given at least a little hope," she said.

"I have hope," he stated.

"But you might not one day. I thought I'd better tell you early on just in case I won't be around when the time comes."

Merlin was still at a loss as to what to make of this, so instead he took a different track.

"What is this shadow that will come?" he asked.

"That I can't tell you," she replied.

"Why not?"

"Can't give you nightmares now can we?"

* * *

The serving girl walked slowly towards the staircase. Her feet made little noise on the stone floor, but she walked with extra care, as though she were creeping past a wolves den. She clutched the dress in her arms tightly, as though afraid of dropping it, but not so tightly as to crease the carefully pressed material.

She moved quietly along the corridor, her destination in view. The flickering of the torch light illuminated her face, throwing her strong features into contrast.

Despite the girl's tendency to look fierce, she was quaking slightly as she ascended the short flight of stairs. At the top was a door, a guard posted on each side, and behind that door was the witch Morgana. The girl was to be her new maidservant. The witch may be effectively a prisoner in Camelot, but apparently she still deserved to be tended to.

The girl was not happy with this arrangement. She had been chosen because she had the fiercest look of all the servants in the castle, yet this was not entirely true for her character. She also happened to have a deep loathing for sorcerers, which was not ideal seeing as it was her job to serve one.

She paused outside the door and waited for confirmation from the guards that she could go on in. one of them nodded his head at her and she adjusted the dress in her arms so she could rap her knuckles against the wood. She heard someone inside say something similar to "enter" so she did, edging the door open with her foot.

The witch was standing by the window, looking at her with curiosity. She didn't look evil.

"What do you want?" she asked.

She looked genuinely confused; it seemed that no one had informed her that she would have a maidservant. The girl shuffled forwards and stared at the floor.

"I am your new maidservant, milady," she said, courteously. "The king has requested that you dine with him. He thought you might need some new clothes."

She laid the dress out on the bed, smoothing out the creases, attempting to hide the shaking of her hands. She then stood back to allow her mistress to approach.

The witch seemed hesitant about it; she moved towards the bed almost cautiously and eyed the dress.

"If it displeases you, I can find another one," she said.

She must be polite, even if she was talking to an evil witch.

"No, this will be fine," she said, smiling at her. "When is dinner?"

She did not return the smile, and replied, "In an hours time."

She moved back towards the door.

"Is there anything else you require, milady?"

"No, thank you. What is your name?" she asked.

"Tanwen."

"Have you worked here long?" the sorceress asked.

"Ever since I was a little girl. If there is nothing else, milady."

"Of course, and please, call me Morgana."

A shiver ran down Tanwen's spine and her fingers automatically clenched into fists.

"I shall come to collect you in an hour, milady."

She curtsied respectfully and left the room quickly.

* * *

Tanwen ran from the witch's chambers, down staircases and past courtiers who stared as she flew past. Her feet pounded against the floor and she fled as though her shadows were carnivorous beasts. She didn't stop until she was near the kitchens. Pulling herself up onto a window ledge, she brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly.

She would not cry. She never cried.

The witch hadn't seemed evil at all; in fact she had seemed like a normal person. But Tanwen knew better, she knew that looks were deceptive, she saw the evidence in that every day. She would not be fooled.

She balled her fabric of her dress in her fists, squeezing them hard, trying to dispel the sorrow. But maybe this wasn't the best place to have come to do so.

They used to down here often when they were younger. The two girls would lift themselves onto the ledge side by side and talk for hours. Of course now Tanwen could barely fit on herself. Her side was pressed quite painfully against the window, the latch digging into her ribs.

She adjusted her position slightly and looked outside. There wasn't much of a view, and the window was too dirty to see out of anyway. It had never used to be like that. When they were children they could watch people moving around outside, doing their daily business. They used to make up stories about them, who they were, what they were doing. It used to be fun. Now they were only memories.

But memories held power, she knew that, and she would never forget these.

She didn't know how long she sat there for, but eventually she roused herself and realised that the hour must almost be up. She would need to be in her mistresses chambers in a few minutes.

While she was lowering herself down from the ledge, a young man in chainmail came around the corner. She didn't even need to look at him properly to know who it was.

"Luke," she said, in a way of greeting.

"Hello Tanwen," Luke replied.

He was training to be a knight, and at the moment was a squire to Sir Leon. He strode impressively down the corridor, his thick, dark brown hair bouncing as he went. He didn't look like a squire, he already looked like a fully fledged knight; no wonder people always thought he was the elder sibling.

"So little sister," he said. "Have you been down here moping all day?"

"I don't mope," she glowered at him for using the words 'little sister'.

He was forever doing that, teasing her about their birthrights and people's assumptions.

"I heard you were made the witch's maidservant today. I bet you were pleased about that," he joked.

"Ecstatic," she replied, bluntly.

He sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, it can't be all that bad," he said, changing his tone to a more serious one.

"Luke!" she exclaimed. "_It can't be all that bad?_ Do you suffer from memory loss or are you just plain stupid?"

"Let's go with the first option. Why is this so bad?"

"Maybe because she killed my best friend?"

The glint in his eyes disappeared. He would never have forgotten about that.

"She has wronged many people –" he began.

"I know what she's done!" her voice started to rise dangerously.

"It would be the same for anyone. We all have something against her."

"Don't tell me it's the same for others! It's not and you know it!" she shouted.

"Tanwen."

"Don't talk to me about it like that. Like it's just something that happened and that we'll all get over it!"

_"Tanwen."_

She fell silent, but only so she could glare at him better.

"Someone has to do it, and I promise it won't be for long. I'll make sure of it."

He turned to leave.

"We're calling a meeting, John and Matthew and some of the others. Do you want to come?" he asked.

Tanwen shook her head.

"No. I've had enough of them and their stupid meetings," she said.

Luke shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll tell you if anything interesting happens."

He started to walk away and left her to her thoughts.

Nothing interesting ever happened at those meetings. It was just some lower town council someone had set up a few years ago. She had been a few times, but couldn't remember much about what was talked about there.

Once Luke was out of sight, she made her way down the corridor in the direction he had gone. She generally preferred to be alone, that had been the case ever since … well, that was the case.

She reached up a hand to run her fingers through her hair, and was irritated to find that some of the ends were sticking up in a rather unruly fashion. She paused by a window, and using her reflection in the glass as a mirror, attempted to tidy it up a bit. She stopped when she heard a slight cough behind her.

Turning around she saw a girl walking around a corner away from her, which was odd because she didn't remember passing her. She had long, blond hair, silky in a way Tanwen's could never be and walked with a grace that would rival any queens. Just as she turned around the corner, the girl looked back and she caught a glimpse of her face. She was certain that she had never seen this person before, but something in the face reminded her of that friend who had been killed. Except for the eyes of course, they were as black as coals.

A warm feeling filled her bones, and she almost called out to her. But then the girl disappeared from sight, and she felt cold again. Half of her wanted to run after this person, but the other half knew she had duties to fill, so she turned around and headed back to the witch's chambers.

* * *

_Oh look, another female OC. I make a lot of these don't I? However, with this one I promise that she is not part of the original legend (so far as I know), is not frutratingly mysterious or cryptic and won't be dying for Merlin any time soon. And yes, she is part of the new idea I mentioned._


	6. Chapter 5

_This chapter didn't take too long to write. The inspiration is kicking in!_

* * *

There was a rather uncomfortable silence in the council chambers that evening. Arthur and Gwen sat at one end of the table, while Morgana and Elaine sat at the other. Plates of food were set out before them, although no one was eating much. Only Elaine seemed to have an appetite.

Merlin and Tanwen were serving them, and the manservant was currently standing behind his master with a jug of wine, waiting for his goblet to empty. He kept glancing at Morgana anxiously. He hadn't noticed before, but she was painfully thin. She was currently staring at the wall opposite her, completely ignoring her food. He wondered when the last time she had eaten was.

In contrast, Elaine tucking into her meal quite happily, and she didn't seem to find the silence all that uncomfortable either.

Arthur cleared his throat.

"I trust you found your chambers comfortable?" he said, breaking the silence.

Morgana nodded mutely and Elaine replied with, "Comfortable enough."

"I need not tell you that some people will be slightly worried about your presence in Camelot," he said.

"More than slightly worried, I should think," Elaine muttered quietly.

"I hope you realise that by returning here you will have to forsake your magic. It is after all illegal."

Merlin's skin prickled uneasily. Forsake their magic...

He looked again at the sisters. Morgana had shown no reaction to this statement, while Elaine looked quite calm.

He couldn't imagine what it would be like to forsake his magic. It was a part of him as much as he was a part of it. He remembered back to the time when he'd first come to Camelot; he'd told Gaius that without his magic he was a nobody and that he may as well die. Was Morgana feeling the same way? It was hard to tell, her face remained expressionless.

"Do we get a choice in the matter?" Elaine asked, attempting to lift some of the tension in the room.

Needless to say, she was unsuccessful.

"This is how it will be if you wish to remain in Camelot," Arthur said, his voice filled with authority.

It seemed that he did not trust them. Merlin didn't find this surprising in the least, considering what had happened the last time they had seen them.

"Then we shall abide by your rules," Elaine replied.

Stepping forwards to refill Gwen's goblet – she had got out of bed specially to see Morgana – he noticed Elaine giving Morgana a hard stare and nodding towards her food. In reply to this Morgana picked something randomly of her plate and raised it towards her mouth.

"There will be certain restrictions that you will have to keep to I'm afraid," Arthur continued.

Elaine returned her gaze to him, and Morgana promptly dropped her food back on to her plate.

"The people will be worried and slightly scared about seeing you around the town, so I think it would be best if you stuck to the inside of the citadel as much as possible. You will have free run of the castle, but will each be escorted by two guards at a time."

Merlin's spirit's rose at this. Free run of the castle, that was better than they could have hoped for. At least they weren't going to be locked up in their chambers all day. Perhaps Arthur did trust them a little after all. And this way he would get to speak to them more, without having to knock out guards all the time either.

Morgana was starting to look a little more hopeful at this too and Elaine looked quite pleased with this statement.

But Merlin noticed that there was one person in the room that didn't look happy about this. Tanwen was standing behind Morgana and although her expression was almost neutral, her body language was screaming otherwise. She stood very stiffly and as far away from her mistress as possible. Her eyes had a dark glint in them and she was working hard not to let a look of anger and disgust show on her face.

Of course he couldn't expect anything different from her. Ever since she had found out what had become of her friend she had had a deep loathing of Morgana … and of him for that matter. Tanwen had never quite forgiven him for not dying instead of her. He couldn't blame her for it. It had taken him months to forgive himself. But, as Gwen had finally made him see, it was hardly his fault that Ayra had jumped in front of him.

"May I ask," Gwen said. "What brought about your change of heart, Morgana?"

Morgana shuffled uncomfortably in her chair for a moment.

"Um, well, Elaine helped me to see the errors of my ways," she said, hesitantly.

She seemed quite uncomfortable talking to them about it, and didn't act at all like she would have done when she was the Lady Morgana.

Elaine sighed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes at the ceiling.

"It was not me that did that, Morgana," she said. "And you know it. It was Merlin."

Merlin almost dropped the jug he was holding. Arthur and Gwen both turned to stare at him and he quickly tried to look innocent. Arthur however was not buying it.

"What do you mean it was Merlin?" he asked, suspiciously.

"I mean he's the one you should be thanking," she replied, completely oblivious to Morgana's embarrassed blush and Merlin's silent plea for her to stop talking. "He's the one who opened her eyes to what was happening."

Morgana cleared her throat slightly.

"Elaine …" she said, quietly.

"What?"

"Stop it."

There was more silence for a moment, while Elaine realised what she had been doing.

"Sorry," she muttered, then loudly to Gwen and Arthur, "How is Gwydre?"

The king and queen stiffened at the mention of their son. None of them thought they had said anything about him to the sorceresses.

"How do you know about him?" Arthur asked, his voice containing only the slightest hint of a threat.

Unconcerned by this Elaine answered, "I have visions, much like Morgana used to."

_Used to?_ Merlin thought.

"Used to?" Arthur said.

"Used to," Elaine replied. "She suffers from them no more."

"Why is that? Do you not have magic anymore?" he asked his sister.

"Yes, I do. I just … don't have visions," Morgana replied.

"Do you know why that is?"

She shook her head.

Merlin wondered about this. Her visions wouldn't have just stopped; there must be a reason for it. She wasn't wearing her healing bracelet anymore he noticed, so that couldn't be the reason. Or maybe Elaine had found a cure, but then why hadn't she used it on herself as well? Did she want to have these visions? He had always thought it was a bad thing to see the future. Nothing good had ever happened when he had seen it, in fact the last time he had unintentionally almost brought about the death of Uther, and Morgana had often woken screaming from her so called 'dreams', absolutely terrified. So why on earth would Elaine want that? Perhaps it had just stopped of its own accord, although this seemed quite unlikely.

"So, anyway," Elaine continued. "How is your son?"

She turned to Arthur and smiled politely at him.

"Well," he said, bluntly.

"Congratulations on being chosen as compater, Merlin!" she called down the table to him.

Arthur and Gwen were starting to become a little disconcerted about the woman facing them. Merlin couldn't blame them. Sometimes Elaine could act quite normal, and at other times … she could appear to be rather odd.

He wished she would stop doing it; she wasn't gaining Morgana or herself any favours.

The rest of the meal was made up of snatches of conversation held between Arthur and Elaine. He wanted to know where they had been for the past two years and what they had been doing, while she pressed him on details about what had been happening in Camelot recently. Somehow, Merlin thought she already knew.

Eventually they had all finished eating, although a great deal of food was still left on the table, and everyone made to leave the chambers. Tanwen and Merlin followed them, exiting together, but Merlin paused outside the door.

He thought he had felt someone watching him. He looked around: there were only two guards outside the doors; Arthur, Gwen, Morgana and Elaine were disappearing around the corner; and Tanwen was a few feet ahead of him, following them. None of them were looking at him.

Once all the others had disappeared around the corner a woman came into view, walking towards him. She had long, blond hair, and for a moment he thought it was Elaine, but then he caught sight of their face. She was definitely not Elaine. In fact, she looked a little like Ayra.

He tried not to stare, but he couldn't help himself. The woman didn't say anything as she passed him, only stared back. A strange feeling crept over him, one of foreboding and misgiving. It didn't feel right.

But then she was past him, and it disappeared. He shook his head at his paranoia and continued on his way to Arthur's chambers.

* * *

The servant had looked at her oddly. The eyes had shown something a little disconcerting, but maybe she had read them wrong. It was hard to tell. But anyway, it was just a servant, they didn't matter.

Instead of thinking about the strange reactions of some people, Camille concentrated on what had happened when she passed _him_ in the corridor. She had walked by him on his way out from the council chambers; he had noticed her, but not paid too much attention. He hadn't stopped her at least. Sometimes people could be so blind.

He looked exactly as Mordred had described, although it had been interesting to see him in real life. Perhaps she could speak to him next time.

She still needed to spend some time in Camelot in her new disguise before she did anything. She mainly needed to figure out what form she would take for her task. She couldn't make any mistakes with that. If it was not perfect, it would not work. She was happy to stay in the background for a while yet, however Mordred was impatient. That was why he had sent her out earlier than they had planned, he wanted it done quickly.

She was just glad to be out of his dark hovel. She sometimes wondered why he lived there instead of rejoining his people. When she had asked him he had just said that they didn't share his beliefs. She supposed that had something to do with the fact that druids were generally a peaceful people.

He didn't seem to be a very peaceful person. He hadn't shown any outward acts of violence, but something told her he wouldn't have too much of a problem with that if it came to it.

She on the other hand found peace boring. Certainly it was good; less people died when there was peace. However it was just so dull. She preferred it when the lands were alive with action. Not war necessarily, but something a little more exciting than peace. Anyway, she'd always felt better with a weapon in hand, preferably her hand-and-a-halfer.

Her target always felt more at ease with his weapon of choice too, although his was a little different from hers.

He was a great warrior, she could see that. But where she came from people put scorn upon his name and boasted loudly that they could defeat him in battle any day. These were lies. Camille was experienced enough to see this.

These same people rarely said his name out loud. Some may have taken this for cowardice, but it wasn't for this reason. The reason was that he was her peoples enemy, and they regarded him with disgust. No one spoke of him in less than hostile tones.

She too rarely spoke his name out loud, although it was just an old habit that she did not. She rarely even thought it, and just referred to him as _him_.

That was about to change though, because if Mordred got his way she would have to use his name a lot more often very soon.

* * *

_Yeah, so according to Mordred the real action ought to be starting soon. Not sure how long "soon" is, but I don't think it will take too long now. There's just a few more issues I need to tend to first, but then we'll get into it!_


	7. Chapter 6

_And here is the next chapter! It's basically just Arthur being worried for Merlin, oh, and a surprise visit from an old friend at the end!_

* * *

For over two years now Arthur had often wondered about what had really happened when Morgana had tortured Merlin. To his credit, Merlin had kept firm and hadn't told him anything about it. However this had been rather frustrating for the young king. He had felt he needed to know what had happened to his friend, that way he might have been able to help him. But no, Merlin preferred to do things on his own.

Arthur hadn't questioned him about it for months; after getting no straight answers he had finally given up and forgotten about it. But then Morgana had returned, and his fear had reawakened. She had tried to kill Merlin last time they had seen her, what if she still wanted to?

She claimed to regret everything she had ever done, but in his opinion it would be almost impossible for someone to redeem themselves after descending that deep into evil, so why should she have?

For all he knew, this could be some sort of plot to get close enough to Merlin to make another attempt on his life. Maybe he should have someone watch the manservant. But that was ridiculous; Merlin would protest against the idea and would then tease him for a year and a day about it. No, instead he should just keep a heavy guard on Morgana, and on her sister too for that matter. He didn't quite trust Elaine. At first sight she seemed friendly and humorous and just a bit odd, but she was Morgause's twin, that certainly must have had some effect on her.

This brought him back to the most pressing matter on his mind at that moment. The question that had haunted him ever since he had woken to see Gwaine saving Merlin from being stabbed: why had Morgana tried to kill Merlin?

He tried to think of all the reasons someone would want to kill another:

Out of hate; but Morgana had plenty of hate for all of them, why focus just on Merlin?

Because they could be dangerous to you; that was preposterous. Merlin was hardly the most dangerous threat that had been facing her; she had been caught and held captive by Arthur and four highly trained knights, so there was no reason that she would first try to kill the scrawny servant.

Because they held information that could be dangerous to you; that was more likely, and the two had been alone together for two weeks, perhaps at some point Morgana had let something slip or maybe Merlin had seen something he shouldn't have. But then why wouldn't Merlin tell Arthur? Maybe she had threatened him into keeping quiet. It didn't sound like him to give in to a bit of blackmailing, what exactly had she done to him? Did the knife she used on him have more side-effects they couldn't see?

Once again, Arthur was thrown into concern for his friend. He'd seemed alright for the past few years, he'd acted quite happy, if a little distant at times. But he hadn't seemed overly concerned that Morgana had returned. In fact, Arthur thought he had caught him smiling at her at one point.

This made him think about what had happened at Morgana's 'execution', when she had asked Merlin for forgiveness. It had been an act, he was sure of it. But what he didn't understand was why Merlin hadn't realised that.

He always seemed to know what was happening every time something odd happened in Camelot. He had known about Agravaine long before he helped Morgana sneak into Camelot and he suspected that he might have known about Morgana's betrayal before the rest of them did as well. He hadn't acted at all surprised when she had shown her true colours, but in Arthur's grief he hadn't noticed until later. So why hadn't he realised that she was lying? It couldn't be true. Perhaps he was just being the fool of a manservant he was. It would make more sense than her words being the truth.

Arthur decided that he needed to speak to Merlin about this once more, just to see if he could invoke a different response than the last dozen times.

He sat in a chair by the table and watched him preparing his bed for the night. The manservant seemed quite happy, and was humming to himself while he worked. It was rather annoying actually.

"Merlin," Arthur started. "Morgana's back."

The manservant smirked.

"Yeah, I noticed," he said, folding back the sheets properly.

"Right … and she's asking for forgiveness."

"Well spotted."

He ignored this remark and continued, "Do you think she's telling the truth?"

"Why? Don't you?" he asked, straightening up.

Arthur made a noncommittal noise. Merlin took this to mean "no".

"That can't be true, otherwise you wouldn't have let her stay here," he said.

He had a point there.

Ignoring the last comment, Arthur said, "You didn't answer my question. Do you think she's lying?"

Merlin paused for a few moments.

"No," he said, very hesitantly.

"Why's that?"

"Because … I can tell she's changed."

"And how do you know that?"

"I can sense it?"

Arthur stared at him dubiously.

"Sense isn't a word I'd normally associate with you," he said.

"Maybe just this once you will?" he suggested hopefully.

"Seeing as you feel completely comfortable being around a sorceress that has previously tortured you, I don't think so."

Merlin looked stonily at him.

"You just had to bring that up," he muttered.

"And why shouldn't I? You hated her three years ago, why the sudden change?" he asked.

"It wasn't me who changed, it was Morgana," he protested.

Arthur paused for a second.

"You really believe that she's different don't you?" he asked.

"I thought we'd already established that," he retorted.

"Merlin, what if she isn't? What if this is some kind of plot to try to kill you?" he suggested.

"Why would she try and kill me?"

"I don't know, why did she the last time?"

They were silent, Merlin glaring at Arthur, Arthur glaring back.

"It was a misunderstanding," Merlin said.

"I'm just concerned for you. She could be plotting your death as we speak," Arthur softened his tone slightly.

"She's not," he retaliated.

"But she could be."

"But she wouldn't."

"Theoretically –"

"Theoretically, she wouldn't kill anyone. She's had enough of killing," Merlin said, cutting him off.

Arthur processed these words slowly.

"You're talking as though you've been speaking to her," he said.

"No I haven't," he said too quickly, confirming his suspicions.

"How did you get past the guards?"

"I didn't. I didn't go."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

"Look me in the eye and say it again."

Merlin looked him in the eye, "I'm not lying."

Arthur didn't believe him. He was concerned for the safety of his friend, and worried about where his foolishness would put him. There was a part of him that wanted Morgana to be good again; however he couldn't quite believe it. And if she wasn't good, there was every possibility that she would bring harm to Merlin.

"You are not to talk to her or be alone with her. I'd try to stay away if I were you," he warned him.

"Why should I?" Merlin said, stubbornly.

"Because I am your king and I order you to stay away from her," he put all the authority he could into that sentence, determined to keep Merlin safe.

He didn't quite manage it though, and his worried tone was obvious to hear. Merlin grinned, catching on to the concern in his master's voice.

"I can take care of myself you know," he said.

"Merlin, do as I say," Arthur lowered his voice dangerously, his eyes darkening.

He was the king and Merlin would have to do as he said, or else he would make him.

"You are not to see her."

The manservant stared at him.

For that one moment they were not equals. It was King Arthur Pendragon and standing before him, his manservant, just a nobody, someone to order around.

While he drew himself up to his full height, Merlin seemed to shrink, becoming smaller in stature. For a moment he saw him for what he was, a servant. Arthur had never looked at him in that way before.

Then the moment was past, and Arthur saw only Merlin again. He was more than a servant, much more. However, Merlin had felt his attitude change towards him. He had seen the cold look in his eyes and knew what it meant. His own eyes showed hurt and disappointment, and before Arthur could say anything he had turned away.

He was only concerned for his friend's safety, and if that meant acting the king and placing Merlin beneath him, then so be it.

* * *

Merlin lay on his side, thinking about what had happened with Arthur earlier. He knew that he was only concerned for his safety, Morgana had tried to kill him after all, but it had still hurt to see Arthur look at him like that. Like he was nothing, like he was no one.

He knew Arthur didn't believe this. At the Round Table he said that he believed in equality, and he acted like he believed this too. He had knighted peasants, wed a serving girl, and continued to let his own manservant talk back to him, yet for a moment back there Arthur hadn't been his friend at all. He had been the king and nothing else, meaning that Merlin had been a servant to him and nothing else.

He knew it wasn't true; they were friends, despite their statuses. Arthur was only looking out for him.

Yet it hurt.

He rolled onto his back, the wooden bed frame creaking as he did so. The moonlight was filtering in through his window, shining across his feet.

_Merlin._

Noise erupted in his mind. A single voice filled his head, a very familiar voice, one he hadn't heard for a long time.

_Merlin._

The voice sounded urgent and impatient, like its owner had something very important to share with him.

_Merlin!_

He wished he could ignore him, but he knew he couldn't. Kilgarrah in Camelot couldn't mean anything good.

He got up out of his bed and hurriedly pulled his boots on. Grabbing his jacket as he left the room, he checked to see if Gaius was asleep. The old physician was snoring slightly, so Merlin crept across the room unseen and through the door.

* * *

Kilgarrah was waiting for him in the large meadow he always landed in when he came to Camelot. He was swishing his tail from side to side agitatedly, while waiting for Merlin to appear.

When the warlock came out from under the cover of the trees he stopped and leaned forwards towards him.

"Young warlock," he said in a way of greeting.

"What is it you want? Is something wrong?" Merlin asked him.

"Something is very wrong indeed," the dragon began. "I sensed that the witch Morgana has returned to Camelot."

"Yes," he replied. "She's redeemed herself."

"Do not believe her lies, Merlin!" his voice rose angrily. "You of all people know what she has done to Camelot. Do not be fooled!"

"I'm not fooled. She regrets everything she's ever done –"

Kilgarrah roared loudly.

"Lies!" he cried. "Do not trust the witch, she will bring you only pain!"

"What do you mean?" Merlin's own voice rose in anger. "She's good, I know it!"

"What makes you think this?" the dragon asked, quietening and studying the warlock intensely.

"She asked me for forgiveness, and –" he raised his voice again before Kilgarrah could interrupt. "– she has another sister, Elaine."

This made him eye Merlin with interest.

"Elaine too has come to Camelot?" he asked.

"Yes," he replied. "She says that Morgana has repented, you don't think that she's plotting against Camelot do you?"

"No. The Lady Elaine has good intentions and always will, but she is mistaken. Morgana has not repented. She will wait in Camelot until the time is right and then betray you all a second time."

"No, she wouldn't. She's good, I know it!"

Merlin refused to believe that she would betray them again. She had changed, he could feel it. Kilgarrah had to be mistaken.

"You're wrong!" he shouted to him. "She's changed!"

"Beware the witch, Merlin. Her only gifts are that of pain and betrayal," he spread his wings wide, preparing to take off. "If you are wise you will kill her now!"

He pounded his wings downwards and rose steadily into the air. Looking down at Merlin he cried, "The witch must die!"

Then he was gone, flying away over the forest, heading for the distant mountains.

Merlin stood alone for a while, breathing heavily.

Kill Morgana … He couldn't do it, he wouldn't do it. She was his friend and she would never betray them again. So in return he wouldn't betray her.

* * *

_What could Kilgarrah mean? *evil giggle* I like keeping you all in suspense._


	8. Chapter 7

_I'm not entirely pleased with this chapter, especially the last bit._

_Please review and enjoy!_

* * *

Morgana had always had dreams, for as long as she could remember, however those dreams had never terrified her more than the ones she had now. Each night she would be dragged down into the depths of nightmares, forced to watch the horrific events unfold in front of her, and would be powerless to resist. She would only be allowed out of the cycle of terror when the sun rose.

She saw awful things in her dreams, things she hoped she would never have to see again, but most likely would the next night. Waking or sleeping, she could always sense them in the back of her mind, like predators waiting to pounce.

The worst part wasn't seeing those things happen, or knowing that she could not escape them. The worst part wasn't knowing that what she was seeing was real, or knowing how much pain those people were in. The worst part was knowing that she was the one who had made them happen.

Each night she would be visited not by the future, but by the past. She would watch the deeds she had done several years prior and feel the pain she inflicted on people. She would see the light fade from their eyes and watch their life being stolen from them. Stolen by her. This was the worst part of her existence. Knowing what she had done to people and knowing that there was nothing she could do about it.

Sometimes though, she would be allowed a respite. Sometimes she wouldn't be able to sense the images in the back of her mind and she would forget them completely. At first she had thought that this was due to being back in Camelot, but as the days passed she grew less certain of that. It was company that made her forget, specifically the company of one particular person, Merlin. She didn't know why it happened, but when it did she found she could forget her nightmares, almost as though the good in him was banishing the evil from her past. She found it comforting, and tried to spend as much time in his company as possible.

However, Arthur had noticed and Morgana found his suspicious glares at her worrying. These days she tried to make it less obvious about how much time she spent with Merlin.

She had wondered why she found respite in his presence and eventually came to the conclusion that it must be his magic. Perhaps he was doing something subconsciously to ease her thoughts. Whatever it was, it was working … at least during the day. During the night she still suffered from the worst nightmares she had ever had and nothing would make any effect on her. She had actually gone back to asking Gaius for sleeping drafts, but they were just as useless as ever. Maybe Merlin could have helped, but she could hardly ask him to stay in the room with her while she slept, that was absurd.

So even though she could find comfort in the days, her nights were still as torturous as ever.

Even the guards outside her door had learnt to ignore her screams.

* * *

Merlin was asleep in his bed when he first heard those screams.

It was impossible that he had heard Morgana all the way from her chambers; her cries must have somehow been telepathically transmitted into his mind because he could hear her as though she was right next to him.

He sat bolt upright in bed and clasped his hands over his ears, though it made no difference. It took him a few seconds to realise that it was Morgana he was hearing and a few more before he realised that she was not in the room with him.

Merlin took his hands off his ears and let her cries fill his mind. He could feel her pain as though it was his own. He couldn't tell what she was screaming about; only that it was terrifying her.

He threw off his bed sheet and ran from the room, not even pausing to grab his boots or jacket.

He watched the guards outside Morgana's chambers from the shadows. There was one at the top of the short flight of stairs outside the door, and another at the bottom of the stairs. He didn't need to think long about what he was going to do.

Holding out a hand towards the nearest fire bracket, he whispered, "_Acwence þa bælblyse_."

The flames in every bracket in the corridor were extinguished by a sudden gust of wind and they were plunged into darkness. The guards cried out in alarm and stumbled about in the pitch black, they were too preoccupied with their sudden blindness to notice a young man sneaking past them.

Merlin slipped inside Morgana's chambers easily enough; the guard at the door had walked into a wall, ensuring that he could move past him without passing him too closely.

The chambers were dark, so he closed the door quietly and whispered, "_Bryne_."

Rings of gold consumed the blue of his irises and a candle on the table lit itself. The bed was illuminated and Merlin saw Morgana lying upon it, twisting and turning in her sleep. She still hadn't woken from her nightmares.

She cried out again in her sleep and his heart wrenched for her. She was in so much pain, about what he couldn't imagine.

He hurried over to her bed just as she gave another loud scream and her eyes flew open. She caught sight of Merlin and screamed again, her dream still clinging to her mind. She panicked and tried to shuffle backwards away from him, but got caught in the bed sheets. He put one knee on the bed and leaned forwards, resting a hand on either shoulder.

"Morgana, it's alright," he muttered soothingly.

She struggled for a few moments, and then her eyes widened as she finally recognised him. A tear leaked from the corner of her eye.

"Merlin," she choked.

He wrapped his arms around her fully and she buried her head in his neck. He climbed onto the bed with her and sat with his back against the headboard. He put a hand on her hair and said, "It's alright, it's fine. You're safe here."

They sat there for a long time, Merlin making shushing noises and Morgana crying into his shoulder, dampening his tunic. He didn't mind and he didn't even find their closeness uncomfortable, he was just concerned for her.

Eventually they both fell asleep like that, huddled against each other, fighting the nightmares. There wasn't a single bad dream for the rest of the night.

* * *

That same night even more guards were being evaded, although these did not notice even the slightest thing out of the ordinary. They certainly did not think that the mouse scurrying across their feet was in any way important, but had they known that that same mouse would one day have a hand in bringing Camelot to its knees they would have stepped on it there and then.

The mouse ran past the men towering above it and disappeared into the vaults of Camelot. Once it was out of sight it stopped running, and then started to grow. The mouse stood up on its hind legs as its limbs grew at an abnormal speed. Within seconds it stood over five feet tall and even then it didn't stop. Its nose shrank and it lost its fur. The tail disappeared and its skeleton rearranged itself with painful sounding cracking noises. Soon a girl stood in its place, a girl with striking golden red hair and dark eyes. She wore no clothes, as they would have been far too big on the mousse body.

Camille arched her back loosening up her joints. She hated taking on animal forms, they made her feel insignificant. She tried to avoid doing whenever she could, however sometimes it could come in handy.

She took a torch out of its bracket and started to make her way along the aisles of shelves, looking for one thing in particular. She knew its rough location, somewhere deep within the vaults, but it would take a while to find. There were so many objects in the vaults, powerful objects. Although she was not a user of magic (yet) she had been born with a unique magical ability which meant that she could feel the raw power of all the objects in this place. It was like a slight humming noise, but she felt it rather than heard it. She knew that if one person possessed all of these items they would be completely invincible.

She moved through the shelves, walking on the balls of her feet so she would make no noise.

After ten minutes of walking and searching, Camille spotted what she was after. It rested on a velvet pillow. Why an object like that would require such luxuries was beyond her, but it didn't matter.

She stepped before it and reached out a hand to grasp the crystal. She held up the Crystal of Neahtid for her examination. It was quite large and she could see her face reflected in its surface, however she saw nothing beside that. Mordred had warned her that she would not have the power to wield such an object, but she felt slightly disappointed all the same.

She turned back around, but her attention was caught by something else. There was a box on a shelf to her right. It was of a simple design and with no trace of anything decorative on it, yet it pulled her towards it. Laying the Crystal of Neahtid back on its cushion for a moment, she slowly lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a knife, a knife with a wickedly sharp and curved blade. It sang to her, a melody of darkness and evil. Taking it out of the container, Camille looked at it reverently. She could feel its abilities; it could cause unimaginable pain and steal the souls of others. It was a Blade, one of the few to be created by the High Priestesses, and somehow she felt that this particular one had been made for her.

Smiling devilishly, she held it in one hand and took the crystal in the other. Mordred could have his crystal, but why shouldn't she take something of her own?

* * *

Morgana was dying. It was as simple as that.

She had done such wrong to people over the years; it was her guilt that was killing her. Every day she grew paler, every day she grew thinner. Her face was gaunt and she had large shadows underneath her eyes.

There was nothing that anyone could do about it. Elaine had been trying to help her for years, but to no avail. Not even Merlin could make any difference. His friend was dying and he wouldn't have been able to do anything, even if he knew about it. Morgana hid everything but her physical appearance; she appeared healthy, and only Elaine wasn't fooled.

Morgana could feel it herself; she was slowly leaving the world. She only wished that she could gain her brothers forgiveness before she went.

There was also one other thing she wanted, but she had only acknowledged it when Merlin had come to comfort her the night before. Somewhere among the hushes and soothing words she had realised something. She wanted to live.

* * *

_In the next chapter Camille will finally come face to face with Arthur, Merlin and all the rest. There'll also be another cliffhanger at the end worthy of an evil laugh ..._


	9. Chapter 8

_Who's ready for a cliff-hanger? I had so much fun writing this! But then afterwards I went through it about five times touching bits up. Please review!_

_I hadn't originally planned on writing part of the last chapter (the Merlin and Morgana bit), but I thought I had better include something like that before everything goes wrong … for one of them anyway._

* * *

Camille watched Mordred excitedly as he took the Crystal of Neahtid in his hand. He had explained to her how he could use the crystal to see the past, present and future, and she was eager to see it work.

He grasped the crystal firmly and pressed his fingers to the back of her hand, opening a telepathic connection between the two of them so she would be able to see what he saw. He gazed into in crystal and suddenly images burst into being inside her mind.

A small boy with large blue eyes. A young man wielding a sword. The same man lifting a small child into his arms. A woman with dark hair standing over him and laughing maliciously. Blood running down his face. The man kneeling next to a body, sobbing. A tombstone and an old sorcerer looking at it. The old man said one word, "Arthur."

She was seeing someone's whole life flash before her very eyes.

After she had got over the shock of seeing the images she spoke aloud to Mordred.

"We don't need to see his whole life story. Hurry it up a bit."

Mordred frowned in response, although she didn't see it, and replied, "Wait a moment. It's more difficult to control than you think."

Patience was never Camille's strongest virtue. She waited a while, watching images of the young man battle stone gargoyles with mild interest.

The scenes came thick and fast, some just flashes, some of them prolonged slightly. She soon realised that the longer ones were the ones he had felt more emotionally.

Suddenly an image flashed across her mind, one of him kissing a woman.

"Wait!" she cried. "Go back!"

Mordred controlled the crystal carefully, this time allowing them an extended view of the scene. Camille frowned thoughtfully as she watched the pair. They saw some more quick flashes of memories centred around this woman, and she realised that they would be no help.

"Never mind. Keep going," she said.

Mordred did just that, but this time he knew what his ally was looking for, so he sifted through the memories searching for the right thing. It wasn't long before Camille spotted something else that might be useful.

"Stop," she said as she caught sight of a woman with brown hair.

It was the only woman the man had ever truly loved. She was pretty … but not as beautiful as herself, yet she would still be a hard obstacle to overcome. They sifted through the other memories he had of her, and yes, he definitely cared about this woman.

And idea came to her, and she smiled. It was perfect, a sure way to steal his heart.

"I know what we're going to do," she said.

Mordred removed his fingers from her hand and the images disappeared.

"Oh, yes?" he said.

"Yes," she smiled maliciously and began to change her form.

She shrunk in size, her features became gentler and her skin lost its paleness as colour flooded her cheeks. Her hair changed colour, turning to a dark brown, and her eyes matched that colour. In just a few seconds, she was a completely new person. No one would have been able to recognise her now, although if they did, they would be recognising the wrong person.

Mordred looked at her in wonder, recognising her as the woman they had just seen in the crystal.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Questions will be asked."

"Not if I play it convincingly," she replied, examining her hands. "And you know I'm a good actor. This will work perfectly. It will be quicker this way, seeing as he already has feelings for me. I expect I could bring him back here by the next moon?"

"Very well then, go. But play it well!" he warned.

Camille moved towards the door, tucking the Blade into her belt.

"Isn't that why you chose me for this?" she asked, slipping out into the night.

* * *

Tanwen couldn't believe that Luke had actually managed to drag her along to his meeting. She sat around a table with about a dozen others, mostly men, in a darkened room. There were only a few candles lit to illuminate the faces of those around her. Most she recognised, however there were a few that she could not place. They may have come from outlying villages, but to be honest she couldn't care less where her companions had come from. And she most certainly didn't care about what any of them were saying. The moment she had sat down she had lost interest in the meeting and turned her attention to the fraying edge of her sleeve.

Glancing up at Luke, who sat beside her, she saw that he was listening intently to what Matthew was saying. Looking around the table she saw similar expressions of concentration and interest. Deciding to tune in for a few seconds to see if the conversation had got any more interesting in the last five minutes she heard Matthew say, "– must do something before it's too late."

"The question is how though?" another man said.

Richard? Was that his name? He was one of the ones she didn't recognise. She only knew his name because Luke had introduced her when they'd first come in.

"Poison," said Luke.

Wait, poison?!

Tanwen was paying full attention now, as was everyone else around the table. Some of them shifted in their seats uncomfortably, some of them were nodding.

"Poison is a woman's weapon," said Mark.

"I shall ignore that," said Martha, Tanwen's aunt. "Need we kill her?"

"It doesn't look like we'll be rid of her any other way," said Luke. "Do you want to expose the whole of Camelot to her plans?"

"Well, no, but Luke do we need to stoop so low?"

"She's a danger to everyone. What about your children?" Luke stared at her coldly. "Do you want them to die?"

"Of course not. Just … tread carefully."

Tanwen looked between them with confusion. What was going on? Who were they trying to kill? And why was she there?

Those questions were answered quickly.

"What do you plan on doing, Luke?" Matthew asked.

Luke stood up. He looked around the table at them all.

"A cold-blooded murder is suspicious. We know for a fact that the witch is in ill health, and some poisons are undetectable. We can make it look like she died of her own accord," he said.

Suddenly Tanwen understood. The witch … they were talking about her mistress.

"And who is going to give her this poison?" Mark asked.

Luke looked straight at her.

"Tanwen," he said.

Tanwen's heart stopped. He wanted her to do it. But … she couldn't kill anyone! What was he thinking?

"Luke … no," she said.

"Sister, you're our only chance. You have the perfect position to do this."

"I can't kill someone," she pleaded.

"All you need to do is put poison in her food. I can do that for you, you just have to give it to her."

"I can't do this."

"Think of all the people that will get hurt if we don't do something to stop this."

"I tell you, I can't kill someone. Why don't _you_ do it? Too scared?" she accused.

He glared at her.

"Think about where you loyalties lie, Tanwen. "Do you want Camelot to fall to ruin?"

"No."

"Then you must do it."

"How do we know she's going to do something? What if she really has changed?" she suggested.

"Like you really believe that."

It was true though, she didn't.

She looked at Martha.

"Tell him I can't do it," she pleaded.

Martha shook her head despairingly.

"Luke, isn't there some other way of doing this?" she asked.

"What do you suggest? A dagger to the heart?" he said, spitefully.

"Tanwen is just a girl. If you want to kill Morgana, get someone else to do it. Someone who is willing."

Mark stood up.

"It would be an honour to protect my kingdom," he said.

He disgusted Tanwen. What kind of person found honour in killing someone?

"No," Luke said. "Tanwen must do it. No one will suspect her."

"But what if she's caught?" Mark said.

"She won't be. When the witch is in her chambers only a few people are allowed to enter; the king, the queen and Tanwen. I shall personally make sure the king and queen aren't any where near when the time comes. Tanwen is clever; she can play her part convincingly," Luke said.

Most of the people in the room were nodding at his words, agreeing with his plan. Tanwen looked at Martha, hoping that she would have something to say, but she only shook her head sadly.

She had never felt so alone before.

* * *

The beaters were getting closer now; Camille could just see them through the trees. She had heard them long before they had come into view, beating their sticks on trees and branches to chase the game towards the crossbows. There were about a dozen hunters lying silently in wait three hundred feet in front of her and the beaters were about half that distance behind her.

Camille pressed her back close against the tree she was hiding behind and her fingers curled into the bark. She leaned around the trunk to catch a quick glimpse of the beaters. Deciding they were close enough, she darted out from behind the tree.

She set off, running diagonally towards the hunters, leaping over logs and around trees. After just a few moments, she heard someone shout from behind. They had seen her and probably thought from this distance that she was a deer or something. She laughed to herself. Men really were stupid sometimes.

She wiped the smile off her face quickly though, she had to stay in character.

Soon she caught a glimpse of a flash of red through the foliage. It was a knight of Camelot, lying in wait for her. She grimaced and pressed on, turning her expression to that of fear.

An arrow came whizzing past her ear and she ducked, but kept running. Another one came shooting by and caught the skin on her arm, ripping open her flesh. Blood splattered her dress and she stumbled. It was only a shallow gash and barely hurt, but she cried out in pain and fell to the ground.

She heard voices and a few shouts, and then running footsteps. Shadows closed in around her and she curled up into a ball, squeezing her eyes shut and whimpering slightly.

"Gwaine you idiot," said a voice. "You shot her!"

"I didn't know she was a girl!" said another voice, presumably Gwaine.

"What are you, blind?"

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" said a third voice.

She opened her eyes and looked up fearfully. A knight was crouching above her. He had curly blond hair, and she didn't recognise him. She looked around and saw that she was surrounded by about half a dozen of these men. And then she saw him. Arthur, king of Camelot.

A multitude of emotions erupted inside her, but she let none of these show on her face. She had to keep up her act.

"What's going on?" a fourth voice asked, this one came from behind Arthur.

"Gwaine shot someone," Arthur replied, turning to look at who it was.

The blond haired knight held out a hand for her and she took it. He helped her to stand and said, "Don't worry. You're safe here."

"He shot someone!" the voice exclaimed. "Who?"

"A girl. She was running away from the beaters," Arthur moved out of the way so the newcomer could see Camille.

She saw a man standing behind him, fairly tall, with dark ruffled hair. She recognised him immediately.

Her eyes widened and she gasped aloud.

She called his name tentatively, taking a small step forwards, "Merlin?"

Merlin stared back at her, a look of complete shock written across his face. It took him a few moments to react, but when he did he whispered a name.

"Freya."

* * *

_Cue evil laugh!_

_Virtual cookies if you know where the line "poison is a woman's weapon" comes from._


	10. Chapter 9

_I am so sorry for the wait for this chapter. I could give you a long list of excuses about how I've just started a new school and how the workload there is horrible and how it takes me about an hour and twenty minutes to get home and how I have only a little time to write in the evenings, but instead I'll just ask you to give me suggestions on how I can punish myself for my tardiness. Hopefully I'll make up for it with this slightly longer than usual chapter._

_Another thing I've been doing this week instead of writing this is going back over the first couple of chapters of TSoaA and editing bits. A big thank you to guest reviewer True North for all your suggestions!_

_Updates will now be slower seeing as I'm back at school, but I will preserve! Expect updates to be quicker at the weekends._

_Well done to those of you who knew where the quote came from. It's from "A Game of Thrones", the book, not the TV series. Although it might be from the series, I've never watched it so I wouldn't know._

_The more observant of you may have noticed that I've changed the story's genre to angst/suspense. This does not mean that I've changed the plot in any way, I just think that it describes the story better considering my obsession for cliffhangers._

* * *

Merlin stared at the druid girl for a few moments. That was impossible. Completely impossible.

Yet there she was, standing before him, blood in her body and a pulse in her neck. She was alive.

He stepped forwards, reaching out a hand to touch her cheek, just to see if she was real. His fingers brushed against her skin and he felt her warmth. Yes, she was definitely alive.

"Freya," he said again, and then he rushed forwards, enveloping her in a hug.

She stiffened suddenly and he loosened his grip a little, worried that he'd hurt her, but then she threw her arms around his body and hugged him back.

As he held on to her, he tried to work around the impossibility that she was alive. She should be dead. He had held her in his arms and felt the life leave her. He had cremated her body. She had been dead. Yet somehow, she was here, right next to him. Alive.

He knew it wasn't impossible to reach those who had left this world. He had seen Freya after she had died in the Waters of Avalon and had been able to speak to her, and then there were shades and the Drocha, but he had never thought that someone could actually come back with a beating heart.

The two stood together, locked in their embrace for a few more moments before pulling apart. He suddenly found standing next to her slightly awkward, especially with all the knights watching. Each of them were staring at him and Freya with expressions of confusion on their faces, trying to figure out if they knew the girl. Arthur was the first to speak.

"Who –?" he began, but Merlin cut him off.

"This is Freya," he said, looking to each of the knights. "She's an old friend."

"More than a friend I'd say," Gwaine whispered to Percival behind his hand.

Merlin glared at him, but the knight just smirked back.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked Freya.

She nodded shyly, her hand resting on her elbow, just beneath her cut.

"Maybe you should apologise, _Gwaine_," the king said, nudging him in the arm.

"Oh, right," Gwaine stepped forwards and adopted an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry for shooting you. Does it hurt much?"

"A little," Freya said, looking at her feet.

"Here," Merlin said, taking off his neckerchief.

He tied it around her arm gently and wiped a small trickle of blood off her skin with a shaking thumb. He tried not to stare at her, but found it impossible. After all, she was meant to be dead. How could she be here?

He tore his gaze away from her face and found Arthur and the knights all staring at him. Suddenly quite conscious of how close he was standing next to her, he stepped backwards a little.

By this time, the other beaters had chased the game into the range of the hunters and were congregating a short distance away. Some of the other knights were coming over to see what was happening. They looked confused to find a girl in the midst of the king and his most trusted knights and a couple of them started asking Sir Leon questions. Arthur saw this and said loud enough for everyone to hear, "There will be no more sport today," and then quieter to Freya, "Come, you need to see a physician."

They began to walk back towards their horses, Merlin slightly shakily. He took a few steps forwards, Freya staying close by his side, and then tripped over his own feet. He heard a few titters of laughter behind him as he stumbled, quickly righted himself and tried to look dignified. Freya gave a slight giggle and looked at him fondly. He smiled at her and tried to ignore the way his stomach was doing back flips.

The journey back to Camelot didn't seem to take as long as it had on the way there, but maybe that was because his mind was preoccupied. Freya was sitting with Gwaine. The knight had volunteered to share his horse with her, possibly as a way to apologise for shooting her, and seeing as Merlin was on foot like all the other beaters he couldn't complain.

She leaned back against Gwaine's chest and fell asleep on the way back, it seemed that she was exhausted. Merlin was a little disappointed by this, he had wanted to speak to her about the complete impossibility of her existence, but he wouldn't have been able to anyway, not with so many people around and Gwaine within such a close proximity.

Gwaine slowed his horse slightly, dropping back from the other knights to travel alongside Merlin.

"So Merlin," he said. "Where do you know Freya from then?"

He had been preparing himself for this, people would want to know the back-story between them, so he had quickly prepared something just in case.

"We first met a few years ago when she came to Camelot, visiting friends. I met her when she came to Gaius for a remedy for something. She was a good friend of mine," he said, hoping he wouldn't get caught in the lie.

"That's it?" Gwaine said, clearly disappointed with his tale. "It doesn't explain why you looked at her like you'd seen a ghost."

"For a moment there I thought I had," he replied.

Gwaine looked at him questioningly and he elaborated.

"I heard that the village where she lived got attacked by bandits, I didn't realise that she had survived."

He had decided to stick to the truth as much as possible, it would make it easier for him to lie to people, and this version of events would explain his reaction to seeing her and hopefully wouldn't raise awkward questions.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Gwaine asked.

"It was before I knew you," he replied.

They were silent for a few minutes, in which Merlin quickly filled in the details in his mind of Freya's story. He hoped that when she woke up she wouldn't object to his new version of her life.

Every now and again he would glance up at her, he tried to be discrete about it, but Gwaine noticed.

"There wasn't something going on between you two was there?" he asked, slyly.

"No," he shook his head and avoided eye contact.

"Are you sure?" he wheedled.

"Yes," he ducked his head, but couldn't stop the blush from creeping into his cheeks.

"Aha!" Gwaine exclaimed. "So there was something between you two!"

"There's no need to shout about it!" he said, irritably. "It was only a short while anyway."

The knight smiled smugly, pleased that he had got a reaction out of his friend.

The rest of the journey passed quickly, with Merlin walking along in a kind of daze, trying to figure out how Freya could possibly be alive. She couldn't be a shade could she? But shades didn't have their counterpart's memories, and Freya had recognised him, no one else knew that Merlin had helped her. People had suspected it and Gaius had known, but no one could possibly know about how close they had grown, not even his mentor knew.

So if she couldn't be a shade, what other explanations were there? Not many as far as he could see. So perhaps it really was her. Was she even alive? Yes, she had a pulse and she could bleed. She was definitely alive. But how?

No matter however hard he concentrated, however hard he thought, he couldn't come up with an explanation. The whole way back to Camelot he went through every single scenario he could think of, but none of them made sense. By the time they walked through the gates of the citadel he had exhausted all his ideas and had a throbbing headache.

* * *

The plate was set upon the table with shaking hands. Morgana looked up at Tanwen to see the grey eyes avert themselves from her face to look instead at the floor.

She had grown used to her maidservant's attitude. She suspected that she was afraid of her; it wasn't surprising, many people showed fear in her presence. They frequently avoided her as though she was contagious and no one would walk alongside her in the corridors.

She looked at the plate of food in front of her and found that she really didn't fancy it. She felt sick just looking at the rich food. She pushed it away from her and said, "I'm not hungry."

Cautiously, Tanwen pushed it back in front of her.

"You must eat," she said quietly.

"I don't feel like eating," Morgana replied.

"You need food, milady," she persisted.

Resigning herself to her fate, she nibbled the end of a strawberry.* Her stomach clenched and she felt nauseous. She put the fruit back down and said, "I can't eat, I feel ill."

Tanwen took the plate and said, "Is there anything else, milady?"

Morgana waved a hand.

"No, you can go."

The girl left the room a little too hurriedly. Morgana wondered if she would ever stop being afraid of her.

She sighed and walked over to the window. She could hear hooves on the cobbles and when she looked down on the courtyard, she saw that Arthur's hunting party had returned. She watched them for a few moments. Arthur jumped off his horse and called out an order to someone. To Morgana's surprise, it wasn't Merlin who came to take the kings horse from him. She searched the group for the dark haired servant and eventually spotted him helping someone down off a horse, a young woman. Morgana frowned and leaned closer to the glass to see better. She was pretty sure that they hadn't gone out with any women, so why had they come back with one?

The girl seemed to have a blue piece of cloth tied around her arm, perhaps she was hurt. In that case, Merlin would be taking her to see Gaius. She watched him guide her over the cobbles towards the castle; it certainly looked like he was heading towards the physician's chambers.

Deciding that she would go and find out who the girl was, she turned her back to the window and walked from the room, telling her guards that she wished to visit the physician on the way out of her chambers.

She reached Gaius's chambers in just a few minutes. Knocking on the door, she heard the voices inside fade away. After a few seconds the door opened and she saw Merlin's face appear behind it.

"Morgana!" he said happily. "Come in."

He opened the door for her and she stepped inside, her guards following closely. Once inside, the guards went to stand slightly apart from her. They had learned that she liked her space and didn't want someone breathing down her neck all the time, although they didn't stand so far away that they couldn't spring into action if she did anything.

Morgana looked over towards where Gaius was standing and saw him examining a cut on the arm of the girl she had seen in the courtyard. She and Merlin stood to one side and she said to him quietly, "Who is that?"

"That's Freya," he replied. "I knew her a few years ago. Gwaine shot her when we were out hunting."

"He shot her?!" she exclaimed.

"The cut isn't very deep, she'll be alright," he reassured her.

"Where does she come from?" she asked.

Merlin hesitated, then glanced over her shoulder at the guards. He lowered his gaze and muttered something under his breath. Morgana realised what he was doing and stood in between him and the guards, hiding his eyes as they flashed gold. Once his eyes had returned to their normal colour she risked a glance behind her to see that the guards seemed unaffected by his enchantment. Turning back to him, she whispered, "What did you do?"

"They can't hear us and they won't notice us for the next few minutes either," he replied. "Neither will they."

He jerked his head towards Gaius and Freya. Morgana frowned.

"Why don't you want them to hear?" she asked, confused.

"Because I'm worried about Freya," he said.

"Why?" she asked.

Merlin looked over at the dark haired girl.

"Because she's dead," he said quietly.

Morgana's head snapped around to stare at Freya. What did he mean she was dead? How could she be dead?

"How can that be?" she asked.

"I don't know."

She waited for him to say more, but he didn't, he just continued to stare at Freya.

"What happened to her?" she asked.

He breathed in deeply, then began to speak.

"She's a druid, and she first came to Camelot in a bounty hunters cage. I saw her trapped in there and I just thought … it could have been me. So I freed her and hid her in the tunnels underneath the citadel. I brought her food and light and took care of her," he paused for a moment and directed his gaze towards his feet.

When he spoke again, his voice had become monotonous; he spoke in a single, dead tone.

"But she was cursed. A man attacked her once. She was afraid and thought he was going to kill her. She took away his life in her fear, but the man's mother saw and cursed her to kill forever more. Every night she would transform into a bastet and become a beast of pure instinct. She would kill innocent people. It wasn't her fault!" he exclaimed suddenly. "She never wanted to kill anyone, she just couldn't help herself."

Morgana wasn't blaming Freya in any way at all; she couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be forced to mindlessly kill people. It must have been hell for her.

She remembered the time that Freya had been brought to Camelot. She could recall the bounty hunter that had caught her coming before Uther, telling him that she had escaped. It had never occurred to her that someone she knew had been the one to free her though.

Though all this passed through her mind, she didn't speak, she was afraid that if she interrupted Merlin wouldn't continue.

"I promised that I would take her away, somewhere safe, somewhere with mountains and a lake … But she didn't want me to get hurt. She left without me, tried to escape on her own. She was corned by the knights. It was midnight, so she transformed in front of them, and … Arthur struck her down. She only escaped because I helped her. I took her out of Camelot, away from the city, to the lake of Avalon ... The next morning she died in my arms," as he finished his tale, he kept his gaze on the floor, avoiding eye contact with her.

Morgana was silent for a while. She had never realised that Merlin had been through such heartbreak. He had lost a friend, but she guessed that Freya had been more than a friend to him. What made it worse was that Arthur had been the one to deliver the death blow. His own friend had killed her, and no one had noticed anything.

She knew there was much more to Merlin than met the eye, much more, but she was only beginning to realise just how much "much" was.

"So … how is she here?" she finally asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "I really don't know."

Morgana glanced again at Freya. She was sitting on the bench, letting Gaius secure a bandage around her upper arm. Suddenly, as though she had sensed her gaze, Freya looked directly at her. Even though Merlin had said that she wouldn't notice them, she stared straight at Morgana, her eyes boring into her. That's when it struck her just how dark the druid girl's eyes were. Black as coals.

* * *

_*I know they didn't have strawberries in those times, but we see Uther eating them all the time and then there's the whole Freya thing, so I'm letting Morgana have them._

_Reviews make me want to update faster!_


	11. Chapter 10

_I've realised that I've been favouring merlin's POV lately, so I think I might lay off him a bit, but don't worry he's still a big part in this._

* * *

Camille was frustrated by the fact that Emrys wasn't taking to her as she had expected. She knew what Freya had meant to him, the crystal of Neahtid never lied; he had loved her, it was just a question of whether he still had these feelings for her. It had been a few years since she had died, and she could feel that he desperately wanted her to be alive, he just didn't quite believe it.

In that case, she would just have to play her part very convincingly. It wouldn't be hard to make everyone else in Camelot believe she was who she said she was, they had never met her after all. The physician might be trickier, he at least had known that Freya was dead, or had thought it.

He finished bandaging her arm and she smiled shyly at him.

"Thank you," she said.

She turned to look at Emrys, who walked over to her side. The sorceress, Morgana, followed him. He sat on the bench next to her and Morgana went to the physician, saying, "Gaius, I was wondering if I could have another sleeping draught."

The warlock lowered his voice and said, "Freya? Do you remember what happened the last time you were here?"

She realised that he was testing her to see if she was the real Freya.

"Of course I do," she whispered. "I died."

He nodded, but still kept up his guard she noticed. He wasn't quite sure yet. She would have to change that.

"I asked you for strawberries once," she said, looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes.

He smiled and she followed his lead. But then he dropped his smile and looked slightly worried once again.

"Do you ... I mean, how are you here?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "I just woke up a few days ago beside the Lake of Avalon. There was no one near me, I called out but nobody answered. I tried to head towards the mountains, but then night fell. And Merlin," she looked at him with wide eyes. "I didn't transform. I'm not a Bastet anymore!"

She filled her face with hope and relief, her eyes lighting up in faked happiness. She knew this information would only strengthen the idea that she wasn't the real Freya, but there was no other way to explain things when he realised that people weren't dying at night.

If he suspected her any more he didn't show it. Instead his face too lit up with happiness and he broke out into a wide grin.

"That's great!" he exclaimed. "Do you know why?"

She shook her head.

"I _am_ alive, aren't I?" she asked, a flicker of fear passing through her eyes.

"Of course you are," he replied.

He took hold of her hand and placed it over her heart. He held it there for a while and she felt the rhythm of her heart beat.

"See, you have a beating heart. You're definitely alive," he said kindly.

He took her hand away from her chest, but kept hold of it. She looked down at their hands with repulsion. She wanted to flinch away, but couldn't of course.

"What happened next?" he asked.

"I realised that I might not be dangerous to people anymore, so … I thought … maybe I could come and see you," she ducked her gaze attempted to blush.

Blushing had never been her strong point. She just rarely had anything to blush about and despite her skin being so pale (when she was in her natural form) her blood didn't seem to want to touch her cheeks.

Thankfully Merlin didn't notice anything amiss so she continued, "I tried to head back to Camelot, but then earlier today I was caught up in your hunt. I was frightened. I thought they were hunting me."

He placed his hands on her shoulders and said firmly but kindly, "Freya you're safe here. No one will bring you any harm. I promise."

Camille raised her head and smiled gratefully at him.

"Thank you Merlin," she said.

"Thank you Gaius," said Morgana.

Camille looked away from the warlock to watch the sorceress walk towards the door. She turned back to look at them and said, "Goodbye Merlin, Freya."

She watched the witch with interest. She'd heard of Morgana of course, and was interested in some of the things she had done, but this woman before her wasn't the one she had heard about. How could it be that Morgana Pendragon resented all the things she had ever done? Was she really the great sorceress that she had heard of?

Morgana stared at her curiously for a moment, then remembered her manners and looked away, leaving the room. The guards left after her, and they were alone except for Gaius.

"Morgana's good now," Merlin explained. "She's redeemed herself."

"I didn't think that was possible," she replied.

"Neither did I."

* * *

Morgana walked down the corridor, thinking of the coal black eyes she had just seen. No one had eyes as dark as that. She wondered if it was anything to do with her druidic heritage. She would ask Elaine about it, maybe she would know.

As she strode down the corridor intent on finding her sister, she saw her brother at the other end of the passage. As they came closer to each other he nodded his head in her direction.

"Morgana," he said curtly.

"Arthur," she replied politely.

She felt a great weight inside her as he regarded her with distrust. He hadn't stopped suspecting her of something ever since she had come back to Camelot, and even though she had done nothing his opinion of her hadn't changed. But he had let her stay, that had to mean something.

It just pained her that he hadn't even let her see her nephew yet.

An idea slunk into her mind. Maybe she could see him. Arthur could hardly object if he knew nothing about it could he?

Glancing sideways at her guards, she muttered under her breath, "_Forþ fleoge_."

The guards were blasted into the wall and they both fell to the ground, unmoving. She hurried over to them and kneeled next to one, checking his pulse and then his head for any bleeding. After doing the same for the other and ensuring that they were both only unconscious, Morgana took off down the corridor, running as fast as she could in her dress.

It didn't take long to get to Gwydre's room. Once she reached it, she burst in through the door and slammed it closed behind her. Pressing her ear against it, she listened for any noises outside. She couldn't hear anything; it seemed that no one had followed her. Sighing in relief, she turned around to see her nephew's cradle. It was on the other side of the room, alone in the middle of the floor. She moved towards it and peeking over the edge, she saw Gwydre wrapped in cloth, sleeping soundly. She could only see a little of his face, but immediately knew that Arthur and Gwen were lucky to have such a wonderful son.

As she bent over the cradle further, she felt something hard and sharp rest against the small of her back. She stiffened and then turned around slowly. Gwen was behind her, holding a dagger and pointing it straight at her.

"Get away from him," she said dangerously.

Morgana was slightly shocked at the expression on her once-maid's face. She looked alarming and parlous. It just went to show what a woman would do to protect a child.

But Morgana didn't mean Gwydre any harm, if only she could find a way to make Gwen see that.

"Gwen …" she said.

* * *

After speaking to Freya and assuring her that she had a home in Camelot, Arthur left Gaius's chambers intent on finding Gwen. At this time of day she would probably be with Gwydre, so he made his way up to his son's chambers.

He had thought that Merlin had been quite protective of Freya back in the physician's chambers and didn't seem entirely comfortable with him being near her. Once again, he wondered what past the two of them had. Gwaine had informed him of Freya's story, but he had been vague on the parts concerning Merlin.

When he reached the room that had been allocated as Gwydre's he heard a noise from within, so he stopped to listen. It sounded like someone was crying. He opened the door cautiously and peered inside.

Gwen was kneeling on the floor in front of Gwydre's cradle, tears falling down her cheeks. Morgana was standing a few feet from her holding Gwydre, a large smile on her face.

Arthur was inside the door and had drawn his sword before he noticed that Gwen wasn't crying. She was laughing.

Wiping the tears of mirth from her face, she looked up and saw Arthur in the doorway. She smiled broadly at him and stood up saying, "Arthur!"

Then she noticed the sword he was holding and her face fell.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

As a response he was silent, looking over at Morgana in confusion. She looked worried and almost ashamed. So she should be. She was holding his son.

"Put him down," he said warned, levelling his sword with her throat.

She swallowed and looked nervously at the blade inches away from her neck.

"Arthur, no!" Gwen cried.

She ran over to stand between him and Morgana, putting herself in front of his sword. He looked at her in confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked incredulously.

"It's alright Arthur. She won't hurt him," she said.

He looked from one woman to the other, trying to figure our just what was going on.

"She doesn't want to hurt him," she said again.

All he could do was stare at her.

"Here," Morgana said, handing the child over to Gwen. "I'm sorry Arthur, I just wanted to see my nephew."

"I …" he said, lost for words.

"We were just reminiscing," Gwen said. "Morgana was telling me about one of the times when she beat you at swordplay."

Arthur could only stare at her. She was as bad as Merlin. Didn't any one understand that this was Morgana they were dealing with? The one who had betrayed them all? Why was everyone acting as though she was still their friend? Unless she had enchanted them in some way. Could it be possible?

Arthur lowered his sword, then feeling foolish he sheathed it.

"Nice to see you two have made friends," he said slowly.

Gwen seemed untroubled by his words, but Morgana caught the double meaning in them and stared at him, not unkindly, it was more a look of … fear? No, it couldn't be. She wouldn't be scared of him. No, her expression was more of worry than fear. Perhaps she was worried because she could tell that he was on to her. Or maybe he was just being paranoid. What if she really had changed?

He shook these thoughts from his mind and told himself to be cautious. It was still rather unlikely that she was redeemed. He would just have to keep a closer eye on her from now on.

"Where are your guards?" he asked.

Morgana blushed.

"Um, I may have left them back in a corridor somewhere. Sorry, I just wanted to see Gwydre," she said.

Arthur was surprised at the lengths she would go to see her nephew. Maybe he should allow her to see him more often. It might keep her content and stop her from running away from the guard all the time. He needed her under close watch after all.

"I'll leave if you want me to," she said, moving towards the door.

"Wait," he said.

He opened the door and said to the guards outside, "Escort Morgana to wherever she wishes to go."

He turned back to her and she smiled weakly as she left the room. Once she had gone Gwen looked at him reproachfully.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"Because of who she is, what she's done," he replied.

"You don't trust her then," she said.

"How can I?"

"Arthur, I think she really has changed. There is a sadness in her eyes and I know it's because she regrets everything she has ever done. Maybe you should be more lenient with her," she suggested.

He shook his head and walked to the window. Resting his head against the glass, he said sadly, "I should never have let her stay here."

"Then why did you?" she asked.

He didn't say anything.

"It's because of him isn't it?"

He looked up at her questioningly.

"It's because of Merlin," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"He was the first to believe that she had changed. He's the reason you let her stay, isn't he?"

He wanted to deny it, but he realised it was true. Merlin believed that Morgana was changed, so he had considered it, however now he wasn't so sure.

"I don't trust her," he said, ignoring Gwen's question. "Maybe I should make her leave."

"Merlin would never forgive you. He believes that she deserves a second chance."

"I know, but isn't the safety of the kingdom more important than what one man believes?" he asked.

"This is Merlin though. You wouldn't do this to him."

"What if I had to?"

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed it!_


	12. Chapter 11

_WOOHOO! I finally figured out how to get internet on my laptop! Turned out all I needed to do was connect to a network. Silly me._

_I wasn't sure about leaving out the confrontation between Gwen and Morgana in the last chapter, so the day after I updated, I went and wrote a transcript of how I thought the conversation might go. It actually turned out to be quite long, so I think I might write more scenes in transcript form first. But anyway, do you guys think I should include it? Please leave your thoughts in a review (or PM, whatever suits you)._

_Right, I've got a little announcement to make. After some deliberation, I have finally sorted out my pairings trouble. I have decided that this will not be a Mergana fic. I'm very sorry to those of you who wanted this to be and to those of you who thought it would be. Sorry for any confusion. I have nothing against Mergana, I just don't think it will work in this story, and it's not what I'm aiming to achieve in the end anyway. However, you're free to read this as Mergana if you want._

* * *

The door to the hut flew open and Mordred snapped his head upwards to see a man entering his home. He was of average height and of average weight, with brown hair and eyes. Completely average.

The door hung open, revealing the rain that was falling from the skies. The rain dripped off the newcomer's cloak, the man threw back the hood, splattering the nearby area with water.

Mordred looked down again and said, "Back so soon?"

"Don't get cocky," the man replied, spitefully.

He looked back up at him and registered the colour of his eyes.

"You need to work on that glamour hiding your eye colour," he said.

"I wasn't trying," the man replied.

"It's good practice," he retorted.

The man gave him a glare then began to change his form. Shortly, Camille was standing in his place, looking none the less frustrated.

"Why are you here?" he asked her.

"Emrys isn't taking to me as expected. He suspects that I'm not really Freya," she said.

"I did warn you that taking her form would raise questions," he said.

"I know that!" she snapped. "What I want to know is what I can do."

"Can't you do anything?"

"No! Acting can only take you so far and except for my shape shifting, I don't have any magic!"

"So that's what you want. An enchantment."

"It might help."

"What do you want? A love spell? Those are tricky and I haven't mastered them yet," he said.

"Actually I was thinking of something a little easier than that," she replied.

"Like what?"

"Could you alter his perception? I mean, make him confused about what's real and what's not. Then he might not be able to see what's strange about Freya being alive," she said.

Once again he was impressed by her intelligence. Love spells were tricky branch of magic, and changing someone's perception of the world was easy in comparison.

"Interesting idea," he said. "And you want me to do this for you?"

"It's not like I can do it," she retorted.

"Fine," he said, and went to a cupboard and started to rummage around in it.

While he was doing so, Camille looked around and sniffed.

"Why do you live in a hut?" she asked.

"It's a nice hut. And it's quite big."

"Still, it's a hut."

Lifting up an old piece of parchment, he found what he was looking for and brought it out for her to see. It was a straw poppet, about the size of his hand. Holding it in both his hands, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the spell he would use.

"_Hé diht ne cunnan riht_," he said, his irises burning gold beneath his eyelids.

Violet, acrid tendrils of smoke began to creep out of the poppet, curling up into the air. Camille watched them with a kind of fascination as they unfurled towards the ceiling. Once he had finished his spell, Mordred handed it to her, the straw still emitting the purple smoke.

"Hang it beneath his bed tomorrow. By the next day he will be yours," he said.

She smiled with malice and said, "I shall not fail."

Turning away from him, she pulled up the hood of her cloak and headed towards the door. Just as she reached it however, she turned back and asked, "What will we do when we have full control of him?"

Then it was Mordred's turn to smile.

"We shall unleash hell."

* * *

Camille knocked softly on Merlin's bedroom door. She waited a few moments for a reply, then cautiously pushed the door open. The room was empty, as she had hoped. He was probably waking the king up at this time, but she had wanted to be sure.

Wasting no time, she hurried across the room and lowered herself onto her stomach. Wriggling underneath his bed, she took out the poppet Mordred had given her. Taking hold of the length of string she had looped around it, she quickly tied it to the slats underneath the bed. She yanked on the knot, making sure it was secure.

Once she had done this, she stood up and stepped back to see if the poppet was visible from standing height. Satisfied, she turned away from the bed and a devilish smirk crossed her face.

Emrys would not know what hit him.

* * *

Gwen had made it no secret that she and Morgana had once again become friends; in fact she seemed to have made it her mission to make it known to as many people as possible. The next morning she and Morgana had gone on a stroll around the citadel, laughing and making jokes as they went.

Gwaine had been surprised at the queen's actions, but didn't question them. After all, if she trusted the sorceress, why shouldn't everyone else? If there was one thing that he'd learnt from being in Camelot it was that Gwen was a good judge of character. It was just a pity that Arthur seemed to have forgotten that.

The king was in a foul mood at training that morning. Gwaine suspected it was because of the little "talk" that he had had with his wife the previous day. His mood wasn't going to improve any time soon he could tell, especially as there was an unwanted visitor on the training field.

Elaine walked across the field to the king and his knights, fully decked out in her own armour, a sword at her side. Gwaine looked at her in surprise. He rarely saw women dressed to fight, and none within Camelot, certainly not walking towards the knights of Camelot with a determined expression on their face.

"Hello Arthur," she said, stopping before him.

They were all stood at the edge of the field, about to engage in some gruelling training exercise that Arthur had thought up. Gwaine stood by Arthur and Leon, while Elyan, Percival and Merlin were not far away. As Elaine spoke they all drew closer together to better hear what she would say.

She stood before them boldly, one woman facing seven men.

"Hello," Arthur said, frowning at her slightly.

It seemed he was still suspicious of the sorceress. Gwaine couldn't blame him. He didn't entirely trust her either. She and Morgana hadn't exactly given them much cause to love them.

"May I join you?" Elaine asked.

Some of the knights looked slightly shocked at this. Gwaine however admired her nerve. It wasn't every woman who would ask to train with the knights of Camelot.

"Excuse me?" Arthur asked.

"May I train with you?" she asked again.

Arthur looked taken aback. He didn't seem to know quite what to say next.

"We usually don't allow women to …"

"Are you saying that women aren't good enough?" Elaine retorted.

"Well …"

"Weren't you beaten in a fight by Morgause once?" she said, breaking out into a grin.

"What's this Arthur?" Gwaine said. "You didn't tell us about that!"

He looked around to see that Elyan and Percival were grinning widely like him. It looked like neither of them had known about this either. Merlin was fighting back laughter and even Leon looked like he was trying not to smile.

"You'll have to tell us the whole story later," he teased.

"Thank you for reminding me about that," he said sarcastically to Elaine.

Her grin widened.

"You're welcome."

Arthur sighed, resigning himself to the turn of events.

"Are you sure you're capable of this?" he asked.

"Quite," she replied. "I had Morgause as a training partner for almost twenty years; I think I can handle it."

"What's wrong Arthur? Afraid she'll show you up?" Gwaine mocked.

The king was silent for a moment. Gwaine watched his internal conflict with amusement. After a few seconds he spoke.

"You may join us," he said, although the words seemed quite strained to Gwaine.

"Thank you," Elaine said.

"How long did you say you've been training for?" the knight asked her.

She turned to look at him.

"Ever since I was five. I've had a long time to practice," she said.

"That's a long time," he replied. "Do you think you'd be up to our level?"

"Was that a challenge?" she asked, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of a fight.

"Why? Do you want it to be?"

"Perhaps. Do you think you're up to my level?"

"Why don't we find out?"

He unsheathed his sword and waited for her to do the same.

"Gwaine," Arthur said disapprovingly. "You should not engage a woman in battle."

"You're one to talk. By the sounds of it you did, _and_ you lost. Besides, I'm not going to hurt her," he said.

"No, it's more likely that I'll hurt him," Elaine joked.

Gwaine decided that he liked her, sorceress or not.

He backed onto the training field and twirled his sword around in a show-off manner. Elaine laughed and followed him, drawing her own sword. They circled each other and he took the chance to examine his opponent.

She was shorter than him, but definitely lighter and probably more nimble. She was right handed, like him, so he wouldn't have to alter the way he fought to accommodate for swords coming at him from the wrong direction. He was standing with his left foot slightly in front of his right, and holding his sword in both hands, levelling it at her. She was standing side on, holding her sword in the one hand with a light grip. She would have the upper hand with speed, while he would have the upper hand with strength.

Almost as though she had read his thoughts, she said, "So Strength, are you ready?"

"How do you know about that?" he asked, curious about how the woman came to know what only one other person had ever heard him being called before.

"I have visions of the future. In one of these I saw you, Arthur and Merlin on a quest to find the Trident of the Fisher King," she explained.

"Visions, huh? Can you tell what the weather will be like tomorrow?" he asked.

"It doesn't work like that."

"Then can you tell what I'm about to do?"

He suddenly stopped circling her, leapt forwards and swung his sword at her side. She nimbly sidestepped and parried his blow with ease.

"Yes. But I don't need visions to do that."

* * *

Tanwen looked at Luke. He nodded and said, "Do it."

She turned back to the jug of water in front of her and raised the small bottle to the lip. Checking to see if no one in the crowded kitchen was watching, she started to pour its contents into the water and looked back up at her brother.

"Put it all in this time," he said.

"She'll notice the taste."

"By then it will be too late. And make sure she drinks it. That was a waste of poison yesterday," he said.

"I will," she said quietly, emptying the bottle.

He noticed her tone and looked at her sternly.

"Tanwen, I am so sorry that you have to do this, but think of what will happen if you don't," he said.

"I know. I will do it."

"Good."

He then surprised her by wrapped his arms around her shoulders and giving her a hug. He rarely did that, but she was in a bad situation, she supposed.

He let go of her and she picked up the jug and the plate of food beside it.

"Good luck," he said.

She said nothing, just forced herself to nod stiffly. Then, turning her back on him, she left the kitchens heading towards her mistresses chambers.

Once she reached it, she stopped dead when she saw the stairs that led to it. Her breath quickened and she found her hands trembling. Forcing herself to remain calm, she put one foot in front of the other and came to the foot of the stairs. She climbed it as slowly as possible, the guard at the top started to give her some strange looks, so she sped up a little. Knocking on the door, she waited for an answer before entering.

The witch was standing by the window, looking down on the courtyard, smiling to herself. As Tanwen entered, she looked around and said, "Hello Tanwen."

"Good evening, milady," she replied, walking over to the table and setting down the plate and jug. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," she replied.

Her mistress sat down at the table and looked at her food. She wrinkled her nose in repulsion. It was a good thing that Tanwen had chosen to poison the water this time; the witch seemed to be eating less and less each day.

She went to get a goblet from a side table and brought it back, placing it beside the food. She took the jug in a shaking hand and poured the poisoned water into it. Her arm gave an involuntary twitch and a little of the water spilled out onto the table. The witch looked at her curiously, however she seemed used to her maids occasional trembling so she turned her attention back to her meal.

The first thing she did was reach for the goblet.

Tanwen stood back from the table and watched her mistress raise it to her lips. She drank deeply, and the maidservant swayed slightly on the spot, horrified with what was happening.

The witch coughed. Then she coughed again. She gasped and raised a hand to her throat. Her eyes widened as she realised what was happening and they flickered upwards, focusing on Tanwen.

She knew that it was her that had used the poison; she knew that she was the betrayer.

"You –" she said, struggling to her feet.

She still had one hand wrapped around her throat; she was struggling to breathe now.

"Why?" she managed to choke out.

She closed her eyes and reminded herself of why she was doing this, willing herself not to break down at what she was doing.

She took a deep breath and said out loud, quite clearly, "You killed Ayra. That's why."

The witch's eyelids fluttered and she collapsed to the ground, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Then her body began to jerk fitfully and Tanwen's stomach lurched painfully.

She could only stare at what she had done. She had killed someone. Her mistress was dying before her and she had done it.

* * *

Gwaine grinned as he swung his sword towards his opponent. She was proving herself to be quite adept with a blade, yet she still had her weaknesses.

His blade sliced through the air, aiming at Elaine's weaker side. She went to block him, but for no apparent reason, she suddenly dropped her sword and froze. Having no way of defending herself, Gwaine's sword cut into her arm, drawing blood.

Shocked at what he had just done, Gwaine dropped his sword as well. It was a shallow cut, but he was ashamed at having harmed a woman. He hurriedly stammered an apology, but it took him a few moments to realise that she wasn't responding.

"Elaine?" he said, stepping closer to her.

She gave no indication that she had heard him, only stared straight ahead, her eyes unfocused and glassy. She didn't even seem to notice that her arm was bleeding.

"Elaine," he said again.

When she didn't respond, he turned around to look at the others. They were all staring at the two with concerned expressions.

Arthur came over to see what was happening properly.

"What did you do to her, Gwaine?" he asked.

"Nothing!" he exclaimed. "She just stopped!"

Glancing back at the others, he noticed that there was one person who wasn't showing concern at Elaine's condition. Merlin had a similar expression to hers on. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes wide and unblinking. Like Elaine, he seemed completely unaware of what was happening around him.

Gwaine was about to say something, when suddenly Elaine spoke.

"Morgana," she said.

She turned around so quickly that Gwaine stumbled backwards from her, startled by her sudden movement. She ran away from them, heading for the castle. After a few moments another figure ran past them all, following her. It took him another second to realise that it was Merlin.

* * *

Tanwen swayed on the spot. She couldn't tear her eyes from the sight in front of her. Why hadn't she moved yet? Why had she stayed to watch this?

She hadn't realised death was quite so –

The door burst open to reveal Elaine, a frantic expression on her face. She saw the sorceress lying on the ground and ran to her side; she put an arm underneath her shoulders and raised her upwards.

"Morgana …" she said.

Her eyes reopened at the sound of her sister's voice.

She tried to form words with her mouth, but they would not come.

"Who did this to you?" he asked.

Instead of replying, the witch flicked her gaze over to where Tanwen was standing, frozen with fear. Elaine saw the maid and her eyes darkened alarmingly.

"Get out," she said darkly.

She couldn't move, she was trapped in her horror.

"Get out!" the sorceress screamed. "Guards!"

Finally, her feet obeyed. She ran from the room, not looking back to see if her mistress had died yet, not looking forwards to see where she was going. Her vision was blurred by tears and her thoughts were stolen by the image of the dying witch.

* * *

_"Hé diht ne cunnan riht" is a spell I made up in Old English. It literally translates as "he shall not know truth."_

_I added Camille's smirk because that's all bad guys on this show seem to do, and we need someone to take Morgana's place as chief smirker seeing as she's now good._

_I feel that at this point I should probably explain the reasoning behind Elaine's personality. When creating her character, I thought about her history: she grew up on the Isle of the Blessed with only Nimueh and Morgause for company, so obviously that would have had some effect on her. She had different morals from her "family", but overlooked their dark nature because they were all she had. In my minds eye, she turned to humour and became light-hearted to make her situation more bearable, yet she also has a darker side because of her upbringing. She's a little socially inept because of the lack of contact with other people she's had, hence the awkwardness in previous chapters. I hope it makes sense._

_Until next time._


	13. Author's Note

Right, I've got an apology to make. My laptop has been confiscated, so I won't be able to update for a while. However, when I get it back I'm thinking of rewriting "The Start of an Apology" because I'm really not happy with the pacing of it. I'm sorry about this because Morgana has now been dying for over a week, and you won't get to find out what happens next for a while if I do this.

Now this is where you guys come in. Should I rewrite TSA and then turn "The Road to Camlann" into one big story, or leave it as a series of smaller stories? I think I'd probably get more viewers if I made it one big story, because I feel that people are put off by having to go find past stories before they can read the others. I understand that if I compile the two stories it will be a while before you get to read what happens next, but I feel that it will be much better the second time around.

So, ideas? Comments? Thoughts? I really need help on what to do with this, so I hope that you lot have some opinions on it. And again, I'm sorry about the whole laptop being confiscated thing, and it's hard for me to write whole chapters on the family computer because other people are hogging it most of the time. Sorry.


	14. Chapter 12

_I GOT MY LAPTOP BACK! FINALLY! And I promise that I will never let it get confiscated again. Ever._

_Anyway, the rewrite. I've decided to go ahead with it, but whilst working on it I will continue with this story. When both stories have reached the same point, I will upload the whole of what I've done on the new story so you don't have to wait to find out what happens next. It's actually turning out to be a pretty dramatic rewrite, although most things will stay the same. Morgana's redemption and Elaine are key so they will be staying, and I think I'll be keeping the part where everyone in Camelot thinks Merlin is dead, because that's the idea which got this whole thing going._

_DID YOU SEE THE FIRST TWO EPISODES OF SEASON 5? IF YOU HAVEN'T, WHY ON EARTH NOT?! Okay, so if you live in America or some other country where it isn't being shown yet I can understand so I'll let you off. But if you live in Britain, what's your excuse? Go and watch them now!_

_I'm not going to include any spoilers for season five in this story, so if you haven't seen any of the episodes yet, you can breath a sigh of relief._

_Longest chapter yet people!_

* * *

Elaine cradled her sister's head against her chest.

"Morgana," she whispered. "Morgana, wake up."

The sorceress did nothing, her head lolled to the side, her eyes closed. She was deathly pale, a slight blue tinge touching her skin. Her body had stopped jerking now, but to Elaine that seemed even worse. She was so still, she could almost believe that she was already dead. Her chest still rose and fell, but only very slightly. She wouldn't last long.

"Merlin," she said hoarsely.

She didn't have the power to save her, but someone did.

"Merlin!" she screamed.

She heard footfalls in the corridor beneath Morgana's room, he was coming.

"Merlin," she said again, her voice fading away to nothing.

The warlock burst into the room, and once again she wondered how she had managed to run so much faster than him.

"The guards outside. They were chasing someone," he said, out of breath.

"Tanwen, it was Tanwen. She poisoned Morgana," she said.

He ran over to the two sisters and fell to his knees beside them.

"What kind of poison?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied.

She tore her eyes away from Morgana to look at him. He had a hopeless look on his face, staring at Morgana with a lost look on his face.

"Merlin do something!" she shouted.

He reached out his hands towards Morgana and let them hover above her chest.

"_Gestepe hole! Þurhhæle_," he said, his eyes glowing gold.

She showed no signs of healing, so Merlin held his other hand alongside the first and repeated the spell.

"_Gestepe hole! Þurhhæle!_"

"It's not working!" Elaine cried, her voice rising an octave in her desperation.

"Try talking to her," he suggested. "_Ge hailige!_"

"Morgana, listen to me," Elaine said. "You have to get up. You can't leave now, not after everything I've done to keep you with us."

Her sister showed no signs of having heard her, but she continued anyway.

"I didn't just come to you to save you from corrupting your soul. There's something important you have to do. If you don't … I hate to think what will happen. There's a destiny that needs to be fulfilled, and I think it's you that has to fulfil it. Please Morgana, don't leave us."

She frantically searched her sister's face for signs of life, but there were none. She bent her head low over her chest to listen for breathing. She was, but only slightly.

Once, she would never have cared if Morgana had died. Once she might even have been glad. Elaine had thought that she was just another thing that Morgause had ruined, another thing wrong in the world. But then she had realised what she could be, and she had seen her potential, so she had gone to find her and attempted to open her eyes. It had been far easier than she had anticipated, perhaps she hadn't been as far gone as she had thought. And then she had found herself beginning to like her half sister. It had been so long since she had felt sisterly affection for someone; in fact she had thought she never would again, not after Morgause. But she had, and that perhaps had been the biggest shock.

But now her sister was dying, and the only warlock powerful enough in existence to save her was failing.

"Merlin, dammit! DO SOMETHING!"

"I'm trying!" he shouted back at her. "_Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare!_"

A ragged gasp escaped Morgana's throat and colour flooded back to her cheeks. Merlin sat back and sighed deeply in relief. Elaine said nothing, immediately pulling her sister into a hug.

Relief as she had never felt before fell in waves across her body, and for a while there was only one thought on her mind. Morgana was alive. For a horrible few seconds, she had believed that she was going to die; these days the very thought of it made her shudder, and not just because she felt sisterly affection for her. It was her destiny, the destiny that she herself had somehow created for her.

"Elaine?" Morgana said. "That hurts."

She pulled away suddenly.

"Sorry," she said. "Are you alright?"

She didn't answer for a moment, so Elaine took the opportunity to study her closely. She had returned to her normal colour and had only a little trouble breathing now. She sat up and rubbed her throat, creasing her forehead slightly. She seemed confused for a few moments, but realisation slowly dawned on her face.

"Poison …" she said slowly.

Looking around, she caught sight of Merlin and she suddenly tensed, her face losing its colour. She caught a gasp in her throat and immediately looked ashamed, her gaze focusing anywhere but at the warlock. Elaine was confused and couldn't understand why she was acting like that. She looked over at Merlin to see he was staring at the floor, looking equally guilty. Why had she acted like that when she realised she had been poisoned? And what did Merlin have to do with it?

Morgana roused herself and said, "Tanwen. She poisoned me."

"It's alright," Elaine soothed her. "We know. They're chasing her already."

This news didn't do anything to calm her; on the contrary she looked quite worried, so Elaine took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently.

"It's alright, you're safe," she said.

She started to shake as though she was cold, but her hand was warm, so it must just have been shock. Elaine wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her closer. Morgana leaned into her body and turned her face into her shoulder. She tried to stifle a sob, but both Merlin and Elaine heard it clearly. He got to his feet slowly and started to back away. She watched him go, still wondering why the poison had made them act like that. He still had that guilt ridden expression on his face, which was now mixed with something that looked like horror. He had almost made it to the door, when it burst open to reveal Arthur, Gwaine and the rest of the knights. Arthur strode in, took one glance at Elaine and Morgana and asked, "What happened?"

Gwaine came in more slowly, but paused when he came level with Merlin. He looked at him slightly suspiciously and Merlin looked wide eyed at him back. Elaine wondered for a second what could have provoked such a look, but then she turned her attention back to Arthur.

"Morgana was poisoned by Tanwen," she said.

The knights were silent for a few seconds. Each one of them looked to Arthur to see what he would do. He didn't say anything, just looked at Morgana.

Elaine watched them all with disbelief. Why weren't any of them doing anything?

"Well, we better get after her," Gwaine said, breaking the silence.

They all looked at him.

"Morgana's a guest of Camelot," he pointed out. "Tanwen's broken the law by trying to kill her."

_At least someone understands_, she thought.

When still no one moved, she grew angry.

"What are you waiting for?" she shouted at them, and she was satisfied to see most of them jump, including Arthur. "She's poisoned my sister!"

That got them moving. Percival and Elyan left the room immediately, and Gwaine followed after looking concernedly at Morgana and Elaine and giving Merlin another odd look. Leon stepped up to Arthur and said, "I'll tell them to sound the warning bell."

Arthur nodded once, and Leon too left. The king came closer to Elaine and crouched down next to Morgana, who was still hiding her face. She wasn't even sure if she had realised that there were other people in the room with them.

"She's been healed," he stated.

"You're observant," she remarked unkindly.

"Did you use magic?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Merlin did it."

From the corner of her eye, she saw the colour drain from the manservant's face. Arthur looked confused and exclaimed, "What?!"

"He had an antidote," she explained quickly.

She hadn't realised what that must have sounded like to Arthur, and it was imperative that he didn't know Merlin's secret yet.

"He had an antidote," Arthur replied slowly, as though he didn't understand. "And do you take to just carrying potions around the castle these days in case someone gets poisoned?" he asked Merlin.

"Yes," he replied quickly. "Uh, no. I mean –"

"When I felt Morgana's pain in my mind I ran to help her. Merlin followed and I told him what had happened. He then ran to Gaius's chambers to get the antidote," she interrupted.

He obviously wasn't convinced by this, and seemed to be about to say something, when the warning bell started to toll. Moments later, Gwaine ran in and said, "Tanwen has managed to escape the castle. We've sealed off the gates, she'll be somewhere in the lower town."

Arthur nodded once and said, "Good. Search the town, don't let her escape."

Then, looking at Morgana once more, he said, "Is she alright?"

Elaine nodded and replied, "Just in shock. I think she should see Gaius though."

"Gwaine," he said. "Can you carry her down to Gaius's?"

"Of course," the knight replied.

He walked over to Elaine and bent down to pick up Morgana.

"Morgana," she roused her sister. "You need to go see Gaius."

She lifted her head and she saw that her cheeks had silvery tear tracks down them. Her eyes were still wide with fear.

"It's alright. No one will harm you," she said. "But you need to see Gaius now."

"Here," Gwaine said, putting one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees.

He lifted her off the ground with ease and turned to the door. She seemed either too weak to fight him, or perhaps she had listened to Elaine's words because she didn't struggle. But as Gwaine moved with her towards the door, she called out, "Elaine."

"I'm here," she replied, following the knight and her sister.

As she made to follow them, Arthur grabbed her arm as she walked past. She stopped and turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry about what's happened to your sister," he said. "Rest assured Tanwen will be punished."

"Half-sister," she corrected him. "And you seem to have forgotten that she's your sister as well."

And with that she swept out of the chambers.

* * *

Tanwen stared at the lit candle, watching the flame flicker about, as she rested her head on her arms. Although it wasn't dark yet, and wouldn't be for hours, she had lit it anyway. Fire had always fascinated her somehow. It was neither a solid, nor a liquid, nor air. It was another being altogether. Fire had a mind of its own, dancing and flickering any way it saw fit. It was beautiful to look at, yet deadly to the touch. There were times when she wondered if it was a form of magic, there seemed to be no reasonable explanation for it, but she always settled for the answer that it wasn't. Magic was unexplained and so was fire, but fire could be used for light and warmth. It could even save lives, but magic could not do that. Magic could only bring harm.

She watched the small flame dance on the candle wick. It was bright orange in colour, but she knew that if fire was hot enough, the flame would burn blue or even white. She had never seen a fire burn that way, but the idea of it seemed mystical and wondrous to her.

After the other witch had found her, she had run straight back to their home. Straight back to her mother.

She lifted her head off the table and turned on the bench to look behind her. A woman was sleeping on the cot in the corner, her hair sprawling around her head. She looked peaceful and free of worry, showing no signs of the slow deterioration of her mind.

The court physician said it was common in elderly people, or those who made it to that age anyway, but it had shown up earlier in their mother than anyone would have expected. Just a few years ago she had done everything for herself and more for others, but now she could barely remember which way it was to the well, or why her husband was not at home. Tanwen was dreading the day when she would not remember her own daughter's face.

She stood up and went to kneel beside the sleeping figure of her mother. She laid her head on the cot near her mother's and grasped her hand. It felt cold against her skin, so she pulled the thin blanket further up her shoulders. Stroking her thumb across the back of her hand, she began to speak.

"I'm sorry Mother. I'm going to have to leave. I've done something terrible, and you would hate me if you knew what it was. I don't want to go, I don't want to leave you here, but I must. I wish I could see Father again, but I know that Luke will tell him what's happened. Maybe someday I'll see you once more, but by the time that comes I don't know if you'll remember me. Perhaps that will be a good thing though, that way you won't miss me."

The door burst open and slammed against the wall. A sudden gust of wind blew inside, extinguishing her candle. She leapt to her feet, expecting to be in chains within seconds. But it was only Luke. She didn't hesitate in running to his arms.

"You stupid girl," he said into her hair. "Why did you let yourself get caught?"

He didn't say it maliciously, he just sounded resigned and weary.

She pulled out of their embrace and said, "It wasn't my fault. I thought you were supposed to be keeping people away from her chambers!"

"The king was training with his knights and I was trailing the queen. No one else was supposed to be allowed into her chambers."

"Well the other witch got in," she turned away from him and hugged her elbows. "At least you got what you wanted. She's probably dead by now."

"She isn't," he said.

She turned around quickly.

"She's not?"

He shook his head. "The witch must have healed her."

Tanwen turned back around to face the other wall. She didn't quite know what to feel. On the one hand, she hadn't killed anyone, so her conscience was free … almost. But on the other, all they had worked towards had failed and the witch was still in a position to wreak havoc in Camelot.

"It doesn't matter. Come on. We have to go," Luke said, grabbing her hand.

"No," she said, resisting his pull towards the door.

"What?" he said confused.

She swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I'm not going," she said.

Luke looked at her as though she had lost her mind. Perhaps she had.

"What do you mean?" he asked, slowly letting go of her hand. "They'll have you hanged if you stay here!"

"I don't want to go."

"Are you mad?! You'll die!"

"Then so be it. I will face the consequences of the actions," she said.

"_My_ actions, Tanwen. I forced you into this."

Little did Luke know that the harder he tried to make her go, the stronger her resolve became.

"I shouldn't have listened to you. I should have said no. We should not be trying to kill her in cold blood," she argued.

"In cold blood?!" he exclaimed. "This is _Morgana_ we are talking about!"

She flinched when he said her name.

"And don't do that! It's just a name!" he shouted. "Don't you remember what she did? She _killed_ Ayra!"

She slapped him sharply across the cheek. He staggered backwards; shocked that she had laid a hand to him. She was shocked herself, having never hit anyone before, let alone _him_. The two stood still for a few seconds, staring at each other.

"Don't remind me," she said in a low and dangerous voice. "I've tried to forget what happened that day, but it's impossible. Would you forget if I died?"

"Of course not!" he exclaimed. "But if you died I would want revenge on your killer, which is why I can't understand why you don't."

"Maybe I'm just different to you," she replied.

"Maybe," he said. "Maybe you're just weak."

"I'm not weak!" she shouted, outraged. "I'm facing the consequences of my actions. How am I weak?"

He sighed and hung his head, resigning himself to her fate.

"You're not," he said. "I know you're not."

She hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Will you wait with me here?"

"Yes," he replied, without a moments hesitation. "I'll own up to my part in this. I'm mostly to blame."

That was not something she had expected. It took a moment to sink in, but when it had it left her gaping.

Luke had never been a hero. He hadn't been a coward, but he had never showed true courage either. Tanwen would not have thought that he would ever be brave enough to admit to this. As a child he was the last one to own up for anything wrong he had done, sometimes blaming others in an attempt to escape punishment, and to have him now say he'd willingly face execution was momentarily stunning.

Tanwen was shocked, but recovered quickly and pleaded, "No! You can't!"

She silently agreed that the situation was partly his fault, but someone needed to look after their mother and anyway, she didn't want him to die.

"We'll face this together. As we should," he said, his face full of determination.

"Who's going to look after Mother?" she demanded.

Luke's gaze flickered over to the woman sleeping in the corner. She seemed so childlike in sleep; neither of them would leave her alone in the world.

"If you die, she won't make it. You know she can't cope," she said.

Luke looked torn. His mother or his sister. Tanwen knew that he would abandon neither.

"Stay with her," she pleaded him. "There's nothing you can do for me, but there's everything you can do for her."

He didn't say anything for a moment, searching her face for something. Eventually he gave a little chuckle and cupped her cheek in his hand.

"You always were a brave one," he said. "I feel bad for leaving you …"

"Yet I'd never forgive you if you left Mother," she replied. "Take care of her."

"Take care of yourself."

He wrapped his arms around her and she hugged him tightly. She buried her face in his chest and squeezed her eyes closed. For one second, one deluded second, she felt safe, but nothing could be further from the truth.

They both sat down at either side of the table, their hands entwined between them, saying nothing more. They stayed like that for a few minutes, when Luke suddenly got up to relight the candle. Tanwen smiled, silently thanking him. They took hold of each others hands again, their arms resting either side of the candle, both sets of eyes fixed upon the burning wick. They stayed like that for a long time. Brother and sister. Together, as they should be.

When the guards finally burst in through the door, they went straight to Tanwen and roughly grabbed her by the arms. Hauling her off the bench, they dragged her out of the house. She would have gone with them willingly, but they never gave her the chance. As she was marched away from her home, she looked back once and saw Luke watching her from the door. He said something to her but she didn't catch it, and then he was robbed from her vision as the guard grasping her arm twisted it painfully to make her look forwards. That was all she could do now, look forwards. Because there was no looking back.

* * *

_Tanwen and Luke's mother has dementia if you were wondering, but to be more specific, she has early onset dementia. It's a disease of the mind that I know quite a bit about because it's directly affected my family. You can't technically call it a disease, it's actually a syndrome which targets memory, attention, language and problem solving. I don't want Tanwen and Luke's parents to be in the picture too much for this story, so I tried to find ways of effectively disposing them from it. Killing them off when they were young seemed too clichéd, so I tried to go for more original ideas. Their father was easy to get rid of; you'll find out where he is later. It was harder to find a way to make sure their mother wouldn't crop up too often; I couldn't leave her in some outlying village like Hunith, because Tanwen would probably stayed with her and got married to some farmer. So I based their family in Camelot, and instead thought about illnesses that would affect someone her age. I also needed a way to make sure she wouldn't be too distressed over Tanwen's arrest, the solution to which was, of course, dementia. It targets the memory, so if the symptoms were bad enough, she might not even be able to remember that her daughter had been arrested by the following morning._

_It's half term next week! That means I'll have 11 days off to write! Yay!_

_I've got one more note so PLEASE READ. Thanks to the insistent nagging of a friend (and a small part of my own mind) I've decided to change my pen name. I PROMISE THIS WILL BE THE ONLY TIME. After that I'm sticking with it. Forever. The reason behind this is that the new pen name has more meaning to me than my current one (for full details, see my profile after I've changed it), and my friend thinks it's cooler. I'm sorry about any confusion this may cause. My new pen name will be WhiteFires. I repeat, WhiteFires._

_That's all, have a lovely week!_


	15. Chapter 13

_Not much to say, so on with the chapter!_

* * *

Gwaine hesitated outside the door. He shouldn't be apprehensive; he was a knight of Camelot, more than capable of defending himself against two women, one of whom was sleeping … even if they were sorceresses. He told himself that he was just there to do his duty. Arthur had sent him to speak to Elaine, and so he would.

It was morning; Morgana had slept for the rest of the day and the whole night. After Gaius had seen her and deemed her in no danger, he had said she needed sleep and shouldn't be disturbed.

Gwaine was there to give Arthur's message to Elaine, and to tell her what was happening in the world outside Morgana's chambers. Elaine hadn't left them since the day before, she had stayed by her sister's side all through the night, not moving for anything.

Discarding his apprehension, he knocked loudly. After a moments pause, he heard, "Come in."

He opened the door and stepped inside. Morgana was asleep on the bed, as he had thought, but Elaine was awake and sitting in a chair next to her. She was still wearing the clothes she was in the day before. She had taken off her armour – it lay in a pile in the corner of the room – but she still wore her trousers and chain mail shirt. Her hair was loose, falling in untidy curls down her back. She turned her head around to look at him when he walked in and her forehead creased slightly.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

After hesitating for a moment, he replied, "Arthur sent me."

She waited for him to continue, still sitting.

"He wanted to tell you that Tanwen has been arrested. I don't think anyone came to tell you yesterday," he said.

"No, they didn't," she replied, breathing a sigh of relief. "That's good. When's her trial?"

"Tomorrow," he replied.

She turned away from him back to her sister, and he moved forwards further into the room.

"Arthur also thought I should inform you on what's been happening while you've been in here," he said.

"Then why didn't he come himself?" she asked.

"He has a council meeting," he replied.

"And you managed to get out of it? Good idea."

"Like I said, he sent me."

"What is it he wanted to tell me?" she asked.

"He thinks … that you should be keeping a lower profile for the next few days."

She turned around and gave him a glare.

"Why?" she demanded.

He hesitated. Telling her would probably make her angry, but he had orders and he had to carry them out.

"It's Tanwen. The people are calling her … a hero."

The effect was immediate. Elaine sprang up from the chair and stormed over to him.

"That coward is no hero!" she screamed. "She poisoned Morgana! How can they say that?!"

Ignoring the impulse to back away from her, he calmly replied, "Because they still see her as the woman who tried to take Camelot for her own, and they see you as another Morgause."

"I am nothing like Morgause!" she shouted to his surprise.

He would have thought that being the late sorceress's twin would have led to some sisterly feelings for her, but the look Elaine had on her face suggested the complete opposite.

"She chose her own path, I chose mine. We are nothing alike," she said in a low voice.

"You didn't get along then," he said, fully emphasizing with her on that point, his own sister was about as charming as mud.

She looked at him with slight disbelief on her face.

"Or perhaps you did," he amended.

"We were sisters, of course we did, how could we not like each other?" she said, the disbelief still etched into her features.

He was surprised by this. He had thought that she was a good person. He still wasn't entirely sure of Morgana yet, but her sister had seemed genuinely pure of heart, so how could she say that she felt love for Morgause? How could anyone? Just because they were sisters didn't mean that they had to feel affection for each other, you only needed to look at Gwaine and his sister to see that. And Morgause had been evil, he had seen the things she had done, seen her wrath. There was no doubt in his mind that she had been evil. So why on earth would Elaine feel affection for her?

"What does Tanwen being called a hero have to do with me?" she asked, turning her back to him once more and moving towards the window.

"They say that some of the people may have been … inspired by her actions. More may try to harm either you or Morgana," he said.

She leaned against the wall next to the window and looked out into the courtyard. She was silent for a while, and Gwaine wondered if he should go. Just as he was about to leave, she asked, "Do you think they'll ever come to like us?"

"It's hard to say," he replied. "You maybe."

"And Morgana?" she asked.

To be honest, he didn't think the people would ever warm to her. He didn't even think he would ever warm to her. He had never known her when she was still good, and even found it hard to believe that she had ever _been _good.

He eventually answered her question by saying, "I don't know."

She said no more, just continued to stare out of the window.

He wondered why Elaine had chosen to side with Morgana. She obviously believed that her sister was now good, yet she didn't seem like a very gullible person, so why was she with her?

"Can I ask you something?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"Why did you choose Morgana?"

She looked at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean … after all she's done, why did _you_ choose her?"

"You're the first person to have asked me that," she said, smiling slightly. "I have a very good reason, perhaps if more people knew about it they would accept her."

"Why don't you tell them then?" he asked.

"They wouldn't believe me. I doubt you'd believe me."

"What's the reason?" he asked.

She smiled, then hesitated, perhaps debating whether she should tell him or not.

"I can't tell you all of it," she said. "But … parts I can. Prophecy says that one day the lands will be united by the Once and Future King, it will be called Albion and it will be a golden age for Camelot. The Once and Future King is Arthur, Gwaine. He will be the one to unite the lands."

While she spoke, she dropped her head and a far away look drifted onto her face. She looked happy.

"Morgana has a part in this future. There's something that she needs to do, something so important. Arthur will create Albion and be the greatest king we've ever seen. Another will stay by his side, protecting him through everything, guiding him through his kingship. And Morgana … she will save us all."

She lifted her head again and repeated her last few words, "She will save us all."

To him it seemed quite far fetched that Morgana of all people would save them, but Elaine looked so convinced of the fact he could hardly argue.

"And you believe this?" Gwaine asked.

"Yes," she replied.

In that one word, he knew that there was nothing that could change her mind about this. Nothing he could say would change her mind. So, if his theory was right, she was a victim of Morgana and always would be. Perhaps his theory wasn't right though. Maybe she was correct and not him.

He decided that he needed to think it through more thoroughly before he came to any conclusions about Morgana's morality.

Bowing his head in her direction, he said, "I'll leave you be. Do you wish to attend Tanwen's trial tomorrow?"

She nodded her head.

"Yes, I do."

"I shall see you later then," he said.

He made it two steps towards the door before he stopped and turned back around.

"And again … I'm sorry about …"

"What?" she asked.

"Your arm," he said, guiltily.

She looked confused for a second, then laughed loudly.

"It doesn't even hurt!" she exclaimed. "That's hardly worth an apology."

He grinned apologetically and then turned back to the door. This time he managed to make it all the way through it before he stopped to close it behind him. He looked back inside for just a second and he saw Elaine looking at him with a small smile on her face.

* * *

"So," Merlin said. "Morgana got poisoned."

He was sitting at the table in Arthur's chambers, polishing his armour. Arthur sat at his desk, signing some papers. Gwen was sitting opposite him, also writing.

"Well observed," Arthur retorted.

Sometimes there was just no stopping Merlin's idiocy.

"What are you going to do about it?" he asked.

"What do you want me to do about it?" he asked, putting down his quill. "Tanwen's been arrested, her trial is tomorrow, there's nothing else to do."

"What about what the people have been saying?" he asked, still absorbed in his work.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, they say she's a hero."

"What kind of a hero uses poison as a weapon?"

Merlin suddenly dropped one of Arthur's gauntlets on the floor. It made contact with the stone slabs with a great clatter of noise.

"Still as big an idiot as ever," he commented nonchalantly.

"Arthur," Gwen reprimanded.

"It's true," he said.

"That doesn't mean you need to say it out loud," she said.

Arthur laughed and looked over to Merlin, who was staring at the armour.

"Something wrong, Merlin?" he asked.

He jerked his head up and said stupidly, "What?"

"Like I said, nothing's changed," he muttered to himself.

Gwen gave him a stern look.

_It's true_, he mouthed at her.

That time not even she could hide a smile.

Arthur suddenly remembered the question he had been meaning to ask Merlin for a few days. What with Morgana being poisoned it had been completely wiped from his mind.

"Merlin?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"Who is Freya?"

"A girl. That I used to know," he replied.

"Really? I _never_ would have guessed," he said sarcastically.

"I met her when she came to Camelot visiting friends. Then she returned home and I didn't see her again. I got word that her village had been attacked by bandits, I thought she was dead," he said.

Gwen turned around in her chair to face him, looking shocked.

That explained his reaction to seeing her, but something in his story seemed off to Arthur.

"You didn't go to see if she was alive?" he asked.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably.

"They said that everyone was dead," he replied.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Why? She's not dead."

Something in his tale suddenly struck a chord with him. Merlin had said he met her in Camelot.

"Merlin, how long ago was this?" he asked.

The servant thought for a moment.

"Sometime during my second year here in Camelot."

"Merlin!"

"You never said anything to us!"

Arthur was shocked that he had hidden it away for all those years. He looked at Gwen and saw that she wore a similar expression to his. Utter disbelief.

"You believed that a good friend of yours had been brutally killed by bandits and you never talked to us about it," he said slowly, trying to make sense of it in his mind. "Why not?"

"I dunno," he avoided eye contact. "I guess I didn't want to bother you with my troubles."

"Did anyone know about this?" he asked.

"Gaius did," he said.

Arthur waited for him to name any others.

"That's it?"

Merlin nodded.

"No one else?"

"That's what I said," he returned to polishing the armour.

"Merlin, is there anything else you'd like to tell us?"

For a moment he paused and seemed to be thinking deeply.

"No," he said finally.

"Are you sure?"

He turned around fully in his chair, exasperated.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked.

"I want you to tell the truth. Is there anything else you've been keeping from us that we ought to know?"

Gwen looked at him reproachfully. She stood up and went to sit opposite Merlin at the table.

"We're your friends Merlin. You can tell us," she said gently.

He shook his head and gave her a forced smile.

"There's nothing else to say," he said.

Arthur and Gwen shared a look. They both knew there had to be more he wasn't telling them. According to him, he'd last seen Freya years ago, and that had left a lot of time for more secrets to appear.

"We both know you're not telling the whole truth," Arthur said. "What's wrong? Why won't you tell us?"

"I told you, that is the truth."

"I don't believe you. How many other secrets have you been hiding?"

"None," he said too quickly.

Arthur knew for certain now he was hiding something.

"Arthur, I would never lie to you," he said, looking directly into his eyes.

The king looked at the servant for a few moments, searching his eyes as though he would be able to read the truth in them.

"What is it you aren't telling me?" he asked.

"Nothing! You already know everything about me. Knowing Freya was the only thing I haven't told you about," he said irritated.

But that wasn't true, and both of them knew it. Despite knowing him for so long, Arthur knew very little about Merlin. He knew next to nothing about his life before he came to Camelot, only that it was hard. He knew hardly anything about Merlin's father and very little about what he did in his spare time. Except for going to the tavern of course, but he had reason to think that even that wasn't true. He had heard Gwaine on several occasions trying to persuade Merlin to go to the tavern with him, complaining that he had never seen him drunk. The knight spent quite a lot of his free time in the tavern and so, apparently, did Merlin. Therefore it was rather unlikely that they hadn't been there together at some point. He knew for a fact that Gwaine went often, so that led to the conclusion that Merlin did not.

And then there were ambitions. Everyone had them; Arthur aimed to become a good and just king, Gwen wanted to fit into the position of queen, and most of his knights wanted to become the best Camelot had seen. Even the lowest of servants had ambitions. But did Merlin? Did he have any at all? He seemed quite content to be a manservant, and had even told Arthur once that he was happy to be his servant until the day he died. Could that be all he wanted from life? To serve him?

Suddenly realising just how little he knew about Merlin, Arthur began to feel quite guilty. Was there anything he knew about the manservant at all? It had been years since they'd met, yet what did he know about him really? Merlin knew everything about him; he washed his socks for goodness sake, and whenever Arthur needed someone to talk to he was there, he just hadn't noticed before.

Perhaps it was time to find some things out.

"So if I know everything about you, how come I don't know how old you are?" he asked.

"Because I don't know myself," he replied.

"What?" he said in disbelief. "You don't know how old you are?"

Merlin shook his head.

"Nope."

"Why on earth not?"

"People don't really count when they're not the king of Camelot. I know that I'm only a few years younger than you though," he said.

"It's no wonder I know so little about you, you don't know yourself."

"Hey, I'm not stupid," he said.

"Could've fooled me," he said under his breath.

"I heard that."

"What we're trying to say Merlin," Gwen interrupted before they started tearing at each others throats. "Is that despite having been your friend for so long, we don't know all that much about you."

"_You_ do," he replied.

"But Arthur doesn't," she said.

"So what do you know about him that I don't?" Arthur asked her.

"Well, he's told me a lot about life in Ealdor, and I know what it's like to be a servant."

"And I don't?"

"No!" they said in unison.

He rolled his eyes.

"Sorry."

"Why are we even talking about this?" Merlin asked, standing up and gathering the armour in his arms.

"Because you're so secretive!" he said.

"I told you, I'm not! It's just … my life is hardly worth talking about," he muttered, heading towards the door.

"That's not true!" Gwen said, standing up and heading after him. "Your life is worth just as much as ours."

She grabbed his by the arm and pulled him around to face her.

"And that's why I'm the servant and you're the king and queen," he said.

"Merlin!"

I'm just kidding!" he joked.

"Then don't you ever say otherwise," she said sternly. "Promise me, Merlin."

He nodded.

"I promise."

"Thank you."

"Well, I'd better get these put away," he said cheerfully, indicating the armour in his arms. "See you later."

He left the chambers and Gwen came over to sit opposite Arthur again.

"Sometimes I think I know him," Arthur mused out loud. "And then I realise I don't know him at all, now more than ever. At times he seems like a clumsy idiot, who makes up words and is scared of shadows. And at other times he seems to have a death wish and even comes close to making me think he's a friend."

Gwen chuckled and he grinned with her.

"And yes, sometimes he seems to be the bravest man I know … Seems to be."

"He is a mystery," she agreed. "Perhaps one day you'll manage to figure him out."

"Perhaps," he mused, looking at the door through which Merlin had left.

* * *

_In the next chapter we'll hopefully be seeing some more of what Camille's up to. The whole Tanwen poisoning Morgana thing is meant to be the subplot, but I feel it's taking over slightly. BACK, TANWEN! GET BACK I SAY!_


	16. Chapter 14

_Ugh. I am a lousy romance writer, even if it's fake. I hope this chapter is okay, not really sure about it myself … (Darn you Camille.) I would have updated earlier, but I kind of got a bit depressed after reading a review left by a certain user. Apparently they find my story boring, and they think it's completely fine to tell me so and give me a large self-esteem drop (which I really don't need), and then ignore the PM I sent them asking why they think that and if there's any way I can improve it. So instead of writing this chapter I spent most of this week sitting on my bed, doing homework, drawing, and watching things on Project Free TV, whilst nicking fruit from the kitchen. (That's right, I don't nick biscuits or whatever, I nick apples.) What a fun half term._

_I said that there would be some more Camille in this chapter and there was going more than there actually is, but then I realised that I need to get the whole Tanwen thing out of the way before I could do the action scene I'm planning. Darn you too Tanwen._

_I hurried when I was rereading this, so if there are any mistakes could you please tell me?_

* * *

Camille watched Merlin as he entered the armoury carrying the king's armour. She hadn't seen much of him yet. The day before he had been busy running around after Arthur and then Morgana's poisoning had pushed everything else to the back of everyone's mind, including her. She had been a little disappointed in him. Wasn't he supposed to be in love with this girl? Perhaps she just needed to take a more active hand in her mission.

As he walked back out again, she stepped out from behind a pillar and said, "Merlin."

He turned around to face her and a smile broke out on his face.

"How are you?" he asked, and then after a slight pause, "Are your chambers alright?"

Arthur had given her some chambers in the castle, perhaps he felt it was partly his fault that she had been injured, or maybe it was a favour to Merlin. In the short time she had been in Camelot, she had clearly seen the bond they shared. It had shocked her at first; how could a king act like a mere servant was his friend? Back in her father's court, servants were treated as they should be, like dirt. Still, it wasn't like she could say anything about it, that was not how Freya would act. No, she had to pretend it was a good thing and not the best way to undermine your own authority.

"They're good," she said shyly. "Everyone has been very kind to me. I was afraid that Arthur would …"

"Don't worry, I doubt he will recognise you. It was a long time ago," he said.

As she moved closer towards him, she wondered how Mordred's poppet was working. Merlin had already slept with it under his bed for one night; it would already have taken effect. She decided to test his memory.

"How is Morgana?" she asked sweetly.

"Morgana?"

For a second a flash of confusion crossed his face, but then it was gone and he said, "Oh, she's fine. Just in shock, I think."

She silently triumphed. The enchantment was already working and that was just after one day, imagine what could happen in a week. She wondered what he had been thinking. Did he forget for a moment that Morgana had returned to Camelot? Or perhaps the information had taken a long time to get to his brain.

"Is there anything you need?" he asked. "Is there anything you want?"

He paused.

"Strawberries?" he asked, a small grin working its way on to his face.

She smiled and gave a little nod, while furiously attempting to blush.

He grinned back and held both his hands out in front of him, clasping them together.

"_Eorðberge_," he whispered.

When he opened his hands, she could see a single, bright red strawberry in his palms. Her smile widened and she carefully reached out to take it from him. She raised it to her lips and took a small bite.

She had never liked strawberries.

* * *

As Arthur and Gwaine walked towards the armoury, the king could not help but notice the uncharacteristic silence of the knight. He had been like that for most of the day, and not at all like his usual self. Arthur had tried going through all the possible explanations for it in his head, but most included either Morgana's poisoning or Tanwen's trial and neither of those could be the answer. In the end he had given up, but that didn't mean it was still nagging him.

"Is something wrong Gwaine?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh, I was just thinking," he replied.

"About?" he prompted.

"I was thinking about Elaine and Morgana," he said.

"What about them?"

"When you sent me to deliver your message, we talked. She seems to be a genuinely good person. I'm not sure about Morgana yet, but Elaine seems different, I just don't think that she's putting her faith in the right people. She's supporting Morgana and says she had affection for Morgause, perhaps we ought to be helping her in some way," he said.

"How?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know," came the reply.

They continued in silence for a few minutes before Gwaine said, "You know, I never thought Tanwen would have done something like this. I mean, I don't know her well, but she doesn't look like someone capable of trying to murder someone."

"Neither did Morgana, and you know how she turned out," he replied.

"Alright, alright, I was just saying –"

As they turned the corner, Arthur flung out an arm to stop Gwaine, making him stop mid-speech.

"What?" he asked.

In answer he nodded at something ahead of them. Gwaine looked and immediately fell silent.

Merlin was standing in the corridor, his body turned to them, facing a girl with dark hair. The two were talking in low voices, and from what they could see of Merlin's face, he was happy. He lifted a hand and brushed a lock of Freya's hair behind her ear.

"I knew something was going on between them," Gwaine hissed.

Arthur shoved him back around the corner.

"Are you deliberately trying to disturb them?" he asked in a hushed voice.

Gwaine shook his head and held up his hands in surrender.

"Nope, I was just stating a fact."

"Very loudly."

"My mouth is shut."

"If that ever happens it will be a miracle," he retorted.

He poked his head around the corner again to see if Merlin and Freya were gone, but they weren't, they were still talking and ... moving closer together. Perhaps they should just go the long way around and leave the two to themselves.

"Let's go the other way," he whispered to Gwaine.

"Why?" the knight asked, sticking his head around the corner as well.

He broke out into a grin and said, "Looks like Merlin might finally get some action."

"I think perhaps we should leave them," he said, nudging him meaningfully in the ribs.

"Right, yeah," he said.

They quietly backed away and started to take the long way round. As soon as they were sure they were out of earshot, they began to speak.

"About time Merlin got himself a girl," Gwaine said. "I was starting to think he'd be alone forever."

"Mmm," Arthur replied. "In all the time I've known him, I've never seen him with a woman. I was beginning to think he needed help."

"Ah, he should have come to me!" Gwaine joked. "I'd have taught him all I know!"

"Getting drunk and flirting? Somehow I don't think that's Merlin's style."

"Very funny," he said dryly. "You know, I've never imagined Merlin with anyone before now."

"I have."

"Yeah?"

"He used to be in love with Gwen," he said, remembering back to Merlin's first year in Camelot.

"Really?"

"Gwen was once arrested for sorcery, Merlin tried to turn himself in to save her, claiming that he was a sorcerer," he explained.

"Bet you're glad they didn't get together," Gwaine joked.

"I guess I am," he replied.

* * *

A faint red glow pierced the darkness. It grew and grew until Morgana's whole vision was covered by the dull light. Her brow creased slightly it filtered past her eyelids. Her hand twitched and she felt something soft beneath her fingers. Bed sheets? Her throat felt dry and raw and her chest ached with every breath she took. How long had she been sleeping? After a minute or so of just lying there, she realised that she could hear someone singing softly.

_Alor in sé filiþléag, díegol dæg áflíegung_

_Sum basing sylfum berbéne, sum heofoncandel earendel_

_Ofergietan úre seofian ond andetta úre brocu ambihthús_

_Ond hwonne æftergield hit sy ærmorgen, gewrit ælfsogoða áflíegung._

It was sung in the Old Religion, but it was not a spell, merely a lullaby. The voice was quiet and sounded a little hoarse, The voice continued with the melody, and she was happy to lie there and listen for a little longer.

_Hércyme hit sy brirnnesen ond hércyme hit sy pisle_

_Hércyme sé béolæs cinberg unc fram ealdorman áweirdnes_

_Hércyme úre swefnreccere béon æðelstenc ond morgen nearubregd him rihtcynn_

_Hércyme sy sé bæcern ic broðorlufu unc._

As the song came to a close, she said, "I didn't know you could sing."

Morgana opened her eyes and the sight of Elaine sitting by her bedside greeted her. She was still in the clothes she had been wearing when she had been poisoned, it seemed like she hadn't moved from her side all the while she slept.

"You had a long sleep," her sister commented. "I was beginning to think you'd never wake up."

"How long was I out for?" she asked.

"Almost a day. You even got a few visitors."

"Who?"

"Gaius came a couple of times, just to make sure you were alright. Gwaine came once to give me a message from Arthur, and Gwen also dropped by to see you. You're getting quite popular with them," she joked.

"I doubt that," she said, propping herself up on her elbows.

A thought came into her mind and she asked, "What about Merlin?"

"Merlin?" Elaine said. "No, he hasn't come. Why?"

"I … I wanted to apologise to him."

Her sister adopted a look of concern.

"Is this about how you looked at him yesterday?" she asked.

She nodded.

"I thought for a moment that … he was the one who had poisoned me."

"Why would you think that?" she asked, confusion creeping into her voice.

She hesitated before saying anything, wondering if she should tell her.

"He poisoned me once before," she said, quietly.

"When?!"

"When Morgause used the Knights of Idirsholas to attack Camelot. She had made me the source of the enchantment without my knowledge of it –"

Elaine balled her hands into fists.

"– and Merlin had to poison me to stop the enchantment. I heard from Morgause that in the end he used my life to bargain with her. He did the right thing, Camelot would have fallen otherwise."

Elaine was silent for a minute. When she finally spoke, she said, "You're very brave Morgana. More than I am."

"That's not true!" she exclaimed. "You're brave as well."

She chuckled and continued, "I'm not so much as you think, and I might not have forgiven him if it had been me in your place."

They were silent again until Morgana asked, "Do you know where Merlin is?"

"I think he's with Freya," Elaine answered.

"Oh. She seems a nice person."

"Yes, she does."

"Interesting eyes though."

Elaine snapped to attention.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"I said she has interesting eyes, very dark, like coals."

"What are you talking about? Her eyes are brown," she said, her forehead creasing.

"No they're not, they're black."

"Morgana, her eyes are brown," she stood up from her chair. "I'm going to tell Gaius you're awake. Oh, and they caught Tanwen, her trial is tomorrow. I'll see you later."

She left the chambers with Morgana still in bed. She sat there for a while, just thinking. Eventually she stood up, dressed only in her nightgown, and she too left the room.

* * *

The floor of the cell was cold and hard, but that didn't bother Tanwen. She was too preoccupied with thoughts of what her death would be like. She was even starting to have regrets about turning herself in.

She heard the clang of a door being opened somewhere and then heavy footsteps. She crawled to the edge of her cell, and rested her head against the bars, straining to see who was coming. Two guards came into view escorting a young man wearing chainmail.

"Luke?" she said, in disbelief. "Luke!"

The guards opened the door of the cell opposite and roughly threw her brother inside. They slammed the door shut and marched away, leaving the two siblings alone.

"You idiot!" she screamed at him, while he sat up and ruefully rubbed the elbow he had fallen on. "Why did you do that?"

"Didn't mean to. They found a bottle of poison on me. The same one used to poison Morgana," he said, shrugging his shoulders as though it didn't matter. "Probably best this way. It was my fault after all. And maybe if I take the blame for it they'll let you go."

"And if they don't?" she stormed, inwardly cursing his stupidity. "Who's going to take care of Mother?"

"Martha will look after her," he replied.

"She'll be confused and upset if one of us isn't around!"

She gripped the bars of the cell door tightly in both hands and pressed her face close to them.

"By next year she'll probably have forgotten she ever lived with us. It will be no different to her," he said monotonously. "You were wrong you know. There's lots I can do for you. I can face this with you, I might even be able to get the king to pardon you," he paused, then asked, "Why did you decide this was the best thing to do?"

"Because it was my fault –"

"It wasn't."

"I haven't finished," she hesitated for a moment before voicing her innermost thoughts. "There's only so much I can do in this life. I will never rise above the position of a servant, and becoming the witch's maid was probably the highest honour I will ever receive. If I had chosen to escape, I would be living the rest of my life looking back over my shoulder, checking to see if I was being followed."

"Not forever. People would have forgotten eventually," Luke said.

"But I would never have been able to return here," she argued.

Luke stared at her for a few moments looking a little incredulous.

"I knew you were brave, but I didn't know you were suicidal!" he exclaimed.

"I'm not suicidal," she said angrily. "I just don't see the point in it," she turned her face away from him, hiding it in the shadows of her cell.

"You've lost hope …" he said.

"I can't remember having any."

"I remember when you had hope. And you were all the better for it. Tanwen please," she looked back up at him. "Don't die."

They were interrupted when they heard footsteps coming towards them. Tanwen quickly shuffled backwards into the shadows and waited for whoever it was to come into view. When they did, she stared in surprise. It was the witch.

She stopped outside her cell, her face illuminated by the flickering light of the nearest torch. Her face was so pale, and there were dark shadows underneath her eyes. Her cheeks were sunken and she was wearing only a white nightgown. It all gave the impression that a ghost was standing outside her cell.

"Tanwen?" she called hesitantly.

"Milady," she replied coldly.

"You don't need to call me that," she said.

"I think I should. The alternative isn't very flattering."

Her words were met with a silence and she wondered if she was stepping outside of her boundaries.

"I wanted to ask you something," the witch continued.

Tanwen waited.

When it became obvious she wasn't going to reply, she asked, "Why did you try to kill me?"

"I told you. Ayra," she said, bluntly.

"I'm deeply sorry about that," she said, looking at her feet, which Tanwen noticed were bare. "Is that the only reason though?"

"No."

"Why else?"

"Because of all the harm you will do to Camelot."

The witch paused before speaking, and she noticed that she actually looked quite hurt at her words.

"I _have_ changed," she said.

"Is there any way to prove it?"

"No," she said after a lengthy hesitation.

"I thought so. Most likely you will try to take over Camelot again, killing innocent people and destroying our homes. I couldn't let that happen."

"Did you act alone?" she asked.

This time it was Tanwen's turn to pause.

"Yes," she said.

"Liar!" Luke called from his cell.

The witch jumped, and turned around quickly.

"I put her up to it," he said, standing up and moving out of the shadows so she could see his face. "I gave her the poison."

"He's the one lying, he had nothing to do with it," Tanwen said desperately.

"It's getting old Tanwen. Just admit it. I'm the reason we're here."

"He's not," she said to the witch. "You're not!" she said to him sternly.

"Are you siblings?" the witch asked, looking at their similar features.

"Yes," the said in unison.

"I'm very sorry that you're here," she said.

"Why? I tried to kill you."

"But you thought you were doing what was best for Camelot and its people. I don't blame you for wanting me dead, sometimes even I think I should be dead. All those things I did …" she trailed off, and Tanwen was left wondering why she was even bothering.

"Why are you here?" she spat bitterly.

"I wanted to know why you wanted to take my life, but I guess I already knew that. I should go," the witch said, turning around to leave the dungeon.

"Perhaps you should. And if you dare harm Camelot, I'll come back to haunt you."

"For some reason I actually believe you."

* * *

_The lullaby Elaine sings is a real song translated into Old English. I don't actually know what it's called – I'm not even sure it has a name – but it has a nice melody and meaning. It's probably a dreadful translation, but I did my best._

_Quick question for you: how long do you like chapters to be in words? I'm debating over how long they should be in the rewrite and thought I'd ask you guys seeing as you're the ones who are actually going to be reading this._


	17. Chapter 15

_I am so sorry for how long it's been since I last updated. It seems like the world is determined to stop me from writing this, what with sixth form, homework, obsessive teachers, and sixth form. Yeah, that's basically my life now. And that's not to mention what the last two episodes of Merlin did to me. Remind me why I was given emotions._

_This chapter is short. I mean really short. I rushed over it because I wanted to get it up as quickly as possible, which lead to it being rather bad compared to my usual standard. I'm incredibly sorry about that too. It should be longer, so hopefully I'll add in the missing scenes later and develop the characters reactions as well._

_The Tanwen thing is resolved in this chapter, we might see the last of her in the next chapter or I might just leave it out and move on to Camille. But anyway, she won't be around for much longer._

* * *

"Tanwen and Luke –"

The court room was packed. It seemed that every courtier had turned up to see the "hero's" trial. Merlin was quietly fuming in the corner, avoiding eye contact with anyone so he wouldn't glare at anyone by accident. He was angry, very angry, but for some reason he couldn't quite explain the reasons behind his anger. Morgana was his friend and she would never do anything to harm anyone, so why someone had deliberately tried to kill her he couldn't understand.

Arthur and Gwen sat on their thrones, the servant and the squire before them, their heads bowed. Merlin stood at the back, partially hidden behind a pillar, like he usually was. Freya had been allowed in to the trial, but he thought she had come mainly because he was there. He was unusually conscious of her presence by his side, but he forced himself to concentrate on what was happening to Tanwen and her brother.

"– You have been accused of attempting to murder Morgana Pendragon, a guest of Camelot. What do you have to say in your defence?" Arthur said, his voice carrying so everyone in the room could hear his words.

"Only that we were trying to prevent a great evil," said the squire, Luke he thought his name was.

"What evil is this?" Arthur asked, the hint of a frown on his face.

Luke waited a few seconds before speaking. He seemed a little surprised that the king could not see the 'great evil' he could.

"This_ is_ the witch Morgana we're talking about. I think it very unlikely that she would come back to Camelot and ask for forgiveness, unless she had an ulterior motive," he said.

"You will refrain from insulting my guest," Arthur ordered.

"It wasn't an insult it was a fact," he retorted.

Merlin wondered where he got his courage from (or was it stupidity?) to be able to stand up to his king like that. Not many people would have dared to do it.

"There are less insulting ways to say it," Gwen said, giving him a stern glare.

"What ulterior motive do you speak of?" Arthur asked, choosing to ignore his retort.

"I suspect her of plotting against Camelot," he said boldly.

Merlin felt his blood boil at the words. How dare he?! Morgana's kindness knew no bounds, how could anyone suspect her of working against her own friends and family?

"Do you have evidence?" Arthur asked, leaning forwards, an intense look on his face.

Merlin started. Was Arthur actually considering believing them? How could he? Morgana was like a sister to him – wait, no, Morgana _was_ his sister.

"No. But we –" Luke started to say.

"You mean that this attack was in cold blood without any substantial reason for it?" he said, incredulously.

"She's done such wrong to so many people, how can she have changed? The woman I saw when she was last here was _evil_! Someone like that can't just suddenly regret everything they've done!" he protested.

Merlin began to feel lost in the conversation. It felt like he had missed something important, something so important …

"It's been two and a half years since she was last here, don't be so quick to assume that!" Gwen said loudly, looking furious at the squire.

Her outburst shocked him. Where was the quiet and meek servant he knew? Hang on – she was the queen, when had she become the queen?

"Someone so far gone into the depths of evil cannot redeem themselves in my book," Luke said.

"This however, is life, and not your book," she snapped back at him.

"She is still the same, I'm sure of it!"

"You have no evidence!"

"You have to believe us! She will turn against you!"

Both of their voices had risen in a crescendo until they were almost shouting. They were only quietened when Arthur called out, "Silence!"

Luke quietened, and Arthur waited a moment before speaking to Tanwen.

"Tanwen, you were the one to poison Morgana. The law states that you should be hanged."

"No!" Luke cried. "Sire, I am the one who forced her to do this. I should be punished."

"Don't worry, you will be," Elaine said bitterly.

She was standing on the opposite side of the room to Merlin, Morgana at her side. They both stood closer to the king and queen than he did, as befitting of their position in the court.

"Elaine," Arthur said, quietening her with a glance.

He then spoke to Tanwen again, "However, we know that you were perhaps pushed into your actions, and maybe by more than one person. Do you have anything to say?"

"She only –" Luke began to say.

"Let her speak," Arthur interrupted him. "Tanwen? What's your side of the story?"

The maidservant said nothing, she just continued to stare at the floor.

"Why do you want her dead?" he prompted her.

"I don't," she said in a low voice.

"Why did you try to kill her?"

"I … I thought she might be dangerous," she said quietly.

"Do you still think she is?"

"I don't know."

* * *

Gwen leaned over the side of her chair to murmur into her husband's ear.

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "Surely you can't be thinking of condemning her."

"I don't know what to do," he replied. "Luke was obviously pushing her into it, and she seems to regret it, yet she still gave Morgana the poison."

"So you think that Luke should be punished?" she asked, in a voice low enough that no one else in the room could hear.

"Yes, he's mostly to blame for it, but I'm not sure about Tanwen."

"You can see she regrets it. Arthur, for heavens sake, she's just a girl! She was pushed into doing something she didn't want to do, can you really put all the blame on her?"

"Not all of it, no," he replied. "But quite a lot."

"He _forced_ her into it."

"She acted of her own free will, I can't just let her off," he protested.

"Just don't kill her," she pleaded. "She doesn't deserve to die, not for this."

"The people are calling her a hero. I can't pardon her. Morgana is a guest of Camelot. It doesn't matter what's happened in the past, I can't make it seem as though I'll let people off if they try to murder a former enemy of ours. It will give them the wrong impression," he explained.

"You can still punish her, just not by death," she said.

He frowned deeply and closed his eyes, a look of deep concentration crossing his face. After a few moments, he reopened his eyes and stood up. For a moment Gwen was worried, he looked so stern, he couldn't possibly be thinking of condemning a girl could he?

"I have decided what your punishment will be," he addressed the siblings.

Both of the accused looked directly at him, awaiting their punishment.

"Tanwen, you are hereby banished from Camelot. Luke, you will join her in exile. You will return here on pain of death."

Tanwen let out a large breath and her gaze returned to the floor. Luke's expression did not change, he continued to look with a cold glare at Arthur. Gwen hoped that they would both do as her husband commanded and not risk their lives for the sake of their pride. Better they leave then and live, rather than die a criminal's death.

"You have until sundown to leave the city," he said.

The guards came up to Tanwen and Luke and began to escort them out. Gwen watched them go, and when Arthur had turned back to her, she laid a hand on his forearm and said, "Thank you."

* * *

_Again, I'm sorry about how rubbish that was. I promise I'll try harder next time. That's all we're going to see of Tanwen for a while, she'll be back near the end (of TRTC, not FKA), but only for a very short amount of time, it might not even be in her POV. Anyway, I'm pretty much done with her._

_I hope that I got Merlin's bit right, and if I didn't I'll go and edit it later._

_Now please excuse me while I go write a 30 minute presentation on "The Mill on the Floss" for English._


End file.
